


Two Years in San Francisco

by catstop



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Compliant to either Star Trek TOS or AOS, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Romance, Slow Burn, Starfleet, Vulcan, Vulcan Culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catstop/pseuds/catstop
Summary: He was a brilliant Vulcan medical researcher with a really bad attitude and deep hatred of this wet, loud planet. She was fine on her own, a proud loner in Starfleet's bio warehousing logistics department. It's a rocky road to balance their new work life together, and sparks of annoyance and attraction fly in their first meeting. Where will their relationship go? Set before the split, can be viewed as either universe. Young Christopher Pike cameos! Vulcan / Human romance. NEWLY EDITED!





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write a Vulcan romance that doesn’t include a certain science officer or ambassador for a long time. I’ve also always wanted to see a pairing where the human isn’t an emotional mess, yet doesn’t try to be Vulcan. A few exist, but they haven’t been updated in some time and one huge fic in that vein has sadly been deleted. 
> 
> Here’s another try. Not a short story, but plotted out and partially written.

NEWLY EDITED!

I've been wanting to write a Vulcan romance that doesn't include a certain science officer or ambassador for a long time. I've also always wanted to see a pairing where the human isn't an emotional mess, yet doesn't try to be Vulcan. A few exist, but they haven't been updated in some time and one huge fic in that vein has sadly been deleted.

Here's another try. Not a short story, but plotted out and partially written.

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2225, PRIME TIMELINE, 8 YEARS BEFORE THE SPLIT IN 2233

Sivok checked his samples for the third time, casting an increasingly visible glance of annoyance towards the attendant.

"The decay process has already begun. We were scheduled to land 4 hours, 41 minutes, and 18 seconds ago. Please ask again what is causing the delay: it is urgent I get to the surface."

The blonde crossed her arms and gave him a death glare that would knock anyone else over, but not this Vulcan.

"I told you, I don't know. We haven't been cleared for landing, that's all I know. As I've also told you, you're not allowed to be back here, please return to your seat, or I'll have to call security."

Sivok glared back defiantly but made his way towards his seat.

The Vulcan Science Academy had filed all the paperwork for him and had provided transport all the way to Earth's spacedoc, but due to his unstable cargo, he was required by law to enter through the human transport system, either civilian or Starfleet.

That had been easy decision. His superiors made it clear that his exposure and cooperation with the barbaric branch of the Federation would be minimal, and only for the greater medical good.

The VSA and Starfleet had negotiated a deal for two years of lab time, in which he would use Starfleet facilities to oversee the cultivation of his life's work into a mass-manufactured chemical-base that could be use for growing various high-stakes medications on Starships that were too complex for replicators.

Getting underway was urgent as it was likely to save thousands of lives, but the manufacturing process had proved difficult in Vulcan's high-gravity, low-oxygen environment.

Fortunately, joint experiments had demonstrated Earth as an excellent base of operations. Unfortunately, the heinous Starfleet was the only institution that could effectively distribute the final product.

They had agreed that before manufacturing would begin, he would work with Command to establish protocols for the delicate material and design and implement a storage and transportation system.

Starfleet had offered to do it themselves, but the VSA would hear nothing of that nonsense. Such a delicate project needed careful, logical oversight, not the rash actions of an undereducated child, as he had surely been assigned to work with.

The biggest problem was he had to live among humans for two years. He was well aware of their inefficiency, and being stalled in spacedoc for hours upon revival was doing nothing to ease his concerns.

He looked down the hallway back towards his samples, and his eye caught the attendant as she walked by, giving him a sideways glare as if challenging him to get up and go back to cargo bay again. He raised an eyebrow but leaned back into his seat, not wanting to be escorted back into station by security.

Sivok closed his eyes to considered his situation. His internal clock told him it was now 2120 in San Francisco.

This meant his housing complex's office was closed and he would have to find a hotel for the night due to the inefficiency of their transport system. Or he would just work through the night.

His human lab assistant would have also gone home, as he knew that humans worked extremely limited hours and required copious amounts of rest, but his Vulcan lab tech, a young man named Tilk, might still be there, depending on what time he finally arrived.

There were no civilian transmissions within the interplanetary system at this orbit, so he couldn't reach out to any of these individuals.

With the attendant finally around the corner, he glanced back down the hallway. If his newly assigned logistics and warehousing representative - a human woman named Lt. Matteson - wasn't there when he arrived, he wouldn't be able to get into the high-security bio warehouse center, and his work would be "good as dead".

Literally.

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Lt. Matteson glanced down at the clock.

Five minutes to midnight.

The newsfeeds said there had been a big fire at the civilian landing docks, and it was causing major delays to transports at spacedoc. One of which contained the Vulcan medical researcher she was currently up at midnight waiting for.

Why couldn't they have sent him in a Starfleet transport?

The report had been vague, citing political conflicts between the 'pacifistic' VSA and the militarized Starfleet and implying the Vulcans were being stubborn jerks.

And look where it got him, stuck in orbit, probably doing the Vulcan equivalent of freaking out about his very fragile, yet not dangerous, work.

If the samples died, he would have to return to Vulcan, grow new samples in their labs, and come back again, this time hopefully by military transport.

Matteson returned to her work, checking the casing for the fifth time. She had written her logistics orders, quadruple checked the labeling systems, and verified all of the transference seals.

Logistics and medical warehousing was considered both a high-stress and boring job by most, but she really did love it. The structure, the organization, the challenge, and most importantly, the lack of other people.

She designed and selected storage systems, worked with the replication of the parts, created inventory schemas, and implemented software to manage it all. The bio materials came in on a largely automatic schedule, and left in the same style: generally giving her perfect solitude.

Or at least it did. Most researchers finished their work, made their deals, got it to manufacturing, and then sent it to her for warehousing and logistics...without the researcher hovering nearby.

Apparently, the VSA didn't work that way. Or at least didn't trust humans to handle it for them. She wondered if her new full-time co-worker was pushed to come by his superiors, or if he came by his own desire.

Two hours of paperwork later, her PADD started to beep:

"The samples were supposed to have been moved hours ago, this delay is unacceptable. Report immediately to the main entrance."

Yeah, and you're the one who's late, buddy. She wanted to remind him that it would have worked out perfectly if he had accepted Starfleet transportation, but held her tongue.

Lt. Matteson breathed in deeply as she approached the door to let him in, steeling herself for the hours to come.

If this Doctor Sivok intended on blaming her for the delay in civilian transport when he refused their transportation (but not their facilities!) on principle, it was going to be a long night.

Or more likely, a very long two years.

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"I'll go backwards."

"No, I will lead in reverse. Vulcan agility is superior and will enable me to navigate through the corridors more efficiently."

Matteson had to resist rolling her eyes. "Whatever, we don't have time to argue."

He gave her a quick nod as he moved backwards down the hallway. "Finally, a logical statement."

She glared in reply, wanting to snipe back it was only her second 'statement' to him ever, but she was more focused on her task.

They both watched their footwork, finally setting down the large case as she keyed into each doorway. Finally, she spotted a security officer patrolling the hallway.

"Excuse me, please help us!"

He rushed over and the three of them managed to get the case into the lift, and began to descend down below ground level into warehousing.

If he had gotten here during the day, the workers would have used the anti-grav to move it through the loading bay, but not at 0200.

As the lift continued, he tapped at the screen of the case, rotating the vials through the exterior view screen and checking their decay. The standard expressionless face was there, but she could almost see the annoyance pulling at his lips.

She grabbed the handle again, anticipating the lift's completion, and they rushed out right as the door opened, finally rounding to the bio warehouse.

"I need to inspect your stasis POD," he said as they cleared the final expanse over the concrete floor.

"Really? I think it's a little late for that. There are no special modifications, and it already cleared multiple inspections. They're more likely to die being out than there being a problem with the unit."

He slightly narrowed his eyes at her as they finally set the case down, but said nothing as they completed the hookup and transference cycle.

She stood silently as he tapped at the screen of the POD, looking back and forth between the two pieces of equipment, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he interpreted the readings.

With nothing to do but wait for his conclusion, she finally got a chance to get a good look at the doctor.

He was tall, probably 6 feet, which combined with this muscular build and stern face, gave him a very imposing aura. Thankfully Matteson was tall for a woman at 5 feet, 10 inches and wasn't too far below his gaze.

He had the standard exact, bobbed haircut with the awful bangs: it looked black at first glance but she figured would be a very dark brown on close inspection. He also seemed quite pale for being from a desert planet.

Maybe he didn't get out much. But then again, neither did she.

After some time of waiting, she finally spoke up.

"Are they okay?"

"Do not interrupt me."

Alright then, he also had a major attitude problem. He would probably be good looking if he didn't.

She went back to standing in silence, and considered going to look over his shoulder, but she could already hear him saying 'keep your distance from my person' and decided to stay put.

She closed her eyes and centered herself, deciding then and there to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had traveled from another planet, surely from a different timezone, was trapped at spacedoc worried about his work for hours, was locked out of the building, and was still unsure if the entire process had been a waste of time or not.

No matter what the Vulcans said about their emotions, he had a right to be salty at this hour of the morning, and she could respect that.

She leaned against the wall and waited for his announcement. After another hour, he finally spoke up.

"They are recovering, and the POD is fully operational."

"That's great!" she said as she yawned, thinking it must be nearly 0300.

"Return to your home. I will finish the initialization process."

She squinted her eyes at his 'order' to return home, ironic considering he no military affiliations, of which he was seemingly so proud of. "Oh no, I can't leave. I have to help you finish."

"No. At your current mental engagement levels, you would most certainly make a critical mistake. You should not extend yourself to this hour, human bodies need substantial period of rest."

She huffed in reply. "Uh, no. I will be staying in my warehouse."

"The warehouse belongs to Starfleet."

"Of which you are not a member, and do not have unrestricted access to."

"I have access to this particular facility - it is in my contract."

"You don't have an access card because you arrived in the middle of the night."

"I do not need one for this evening, as I do not intend on leaving."

"Then we'll be here together, as I don't intend on leaving either." She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin proudly.

He glared at her intensely, before abruptly turning to the console. "Very well. You may stay, but do not interfere with my work."

She stepped beside him at the console, and fired back, her voice dripping with venom. "Thank you for giving me permission to stay in my own workspace, but I will be staying and I will be participating in the initialization on my equipment, not assisting you. This is my job."

"Miss Matteson-"

"Lieutenant Matteson!"

He looked as if he might roll his eyes, but continued on, never looking at her directly. "Lieutenant Matteson, your offer is acknowledged. Still, your assistance is not needed."

She clamped her eyes shut, willing herself not be emotional and snap in front of her new stoic colleague anymore than she already had, but boy was he making it difficult.

Knowing she was breaking protocol on working with Vulcans, but done with being nice to this jerk, she grabbed his shoulder and turned him towards her, stepping right up to him and pulling herself up closer to his height.

"It's not an offer, nor am I providing assistance. This is my lab, and I am the ranking officer of this warehouse division. You are a guest, and if you would like to be involved in the initialization you may cooperate, or you may leave and I will finish the process alone."

Now close up in making her threat, she watched his brown eyes narrow and felt his hot breath spilling onto her face. He continued to glare at her with the meanest Vulcan death stare he could manage, but she held her gaze defiantly, unwilling to back down.

He slowly moved his hand towards hers, resting on his shoulder, and she briefly wondered if she had made a huge mistake physically threatening a 6 foot tall male Vulcan.

When they were alone. In the middle of the night. In a 800,000 square foot warehouse, where security could be anywhere within the labyrinth of shelves and corridors, many of which were soundproof.

What could she do if he attacked her? Probably nothing effective, as he was much, much stronger than her and probably had trained in various martial arts since infancy.

As their hands made contact, she felt a tingling sensation run up her spine, and a split second of surprise registered on his face, but the sensation broke as he abruptly jerked away and looked down.

"If you insist," he murmured without looking back up, so low she could barely hear it.

Determined to be the adult in this situation, she gave him her biggest smile and said, "Great!" patting him on the shoulder as she backed away, causing him to jerk slightly.

Yeesh, jumpy.

To both of their relief, they quickly set about working, running all of the processes and only speaking or looking at each other when strictly necessary.

When she completed the first process, he motioned her aside to check her work, and she smiled and let him by without making a fuss.

Much to his dismay, she immediately crossed to the station he just abandoned and opened the file had just closed.

"What are you doing?" he quickly demanded.

She slowly looked up at him, feigning confusion. "Checking your work. I thought we were doubling everything up to ensure accuracy?"

His mouth thinned into a straight line, but he looked down without further comment and went back to tapping on her screen.

Gottcha.

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Sivok glanced up at his companion, but quickly looked away as she returned his gaze.

He was forced to privately conceded that she had reasonable stamina for her gender and species, as she had matched his pace the entire night without making any errors.

With the initialization sequences completed, they moved onto porting the Vulcan algorithms into the Starfleet system, but had to manually re-set each individual node for the changes to take effect.

Unfortunately, they were under the consoles at the height of an adult, and had to kneel or crawl to access them towards the bottom of the sphere.

He dropped to the ground as he pulled out the first node towards the bottom of the POD, hooking the PADD cable into the tube's access port, and then unplugging and pushing it back in, the yellow rim illuminating as the magnetic seal re-activated.

His sensitive ears alerted him that was she crawling over towards him, settling next to his knee and causing him to breath in deeply.

"Let's work together: we can avoid repetition that way."

"Do you not need to rest? It is 0704."

She glared at him in reply. "I'm already awake; I'll sleep later. Let's just finish this, alright?"

He looked over cautiously. "Very well, but I still believe you should stop and rest."

"Quite concerned for my well being, aren't you? I'd almost think you're worried about me," she teased with a wry smile.

He stiffened and leaned in closer to the POD, shifting slightly further from her, causing the lieutenant to roll her eyes in reply.

After twenty minutes and ten seconds of working silence, he came to the alarming realization she was moving faster than him, but witht the same level of quality.

He wasn't surprised, however, her nearby movements were...distracting, though he wasn't sure why.

Probably because he had never been around an alien this long, and certainly not this close, where they could almost touch with sudden movements.. Why had he let her come over here, and why was he staying in this spot with her so close?

Sivok wasn't sure, and determined to discover why in meditation. Working together on this part was logical, but it could be done with greater distance. He shifted further away, causing her to throw a glance in his direction.

After another ten minutes and fifty seconds of attempting to ignore her still too close movements, he noticed something odd: she was skipping nodes and moving around in some chaotic pattern. He tried to ignore it, but the mystery of her strange workflow was too much to cast aside.

"Why are you working that way?" He finally ground out.

"What way?" She tilted her head in reply, never taking her eyes off of the node under attention.

"You are not re-setting the nodes in order."

"I'm still faster than you" she snorted.

He glared back. "I acknowledge that, but you would be faster yet if you moved in the correct order."

She laughed. "The POD is spherical, there's not a correct order."

"There is. Move linearly across the lines, like this" he motioned in the pattern he had been following in front of her, but quickly regretted it as she moved forward to demonstrate her pattern in the same way, bumping into his arm.

"Sorry, I know Vulcans don't like to be touched. Anyhow, they're both valid ways, I'm working based on the cycle the node is in, so I don't have to think about the transference ratios."

"But you have to remember where you have been, and could miss a node as a result."

"Have I, Mr. Eidetic memory?"

He paused, thinking. "No, you haven't."

"That's because I check the outer rim after each pass to ensure none are missed."

"That is duplication of effort."

"So? I'm still faster than you."

"I am moving significantly slower than my usual pace of work on this project. Also, I typically delegate the task to lower level assistants such as yourself, so I somewhat out of practice."

She paused at the barb, and dropped her head, sighing loudly and exposing the back of neck from under her high ponytail, which Sivok's eyes drifted towards before he forced them away, chastising himself in the process.

"As I said, if you were to move linearly, you would be significantly faster."

"Significantly?" She snapped, surprising him. She had been quite calm since the incident where she scandalously invaded his personal space. "A fraction of a second, at the very best-"

"Even milliseconds can be critical when working with unstable compounds."

"I know! This is my job, too! And this is the fastest way, for me. You do it however you please, just don't tell me how to. The order doesn't matter that much. There are others who do it in the 'correct order' but I've got the best metrics on every line in the entire warehouse, and you can double check that with Command."

"That is only because your co-workers are all human as well."

She caught his eye, and he saw she was truly angry this time. She opened her mouth to speak, but then clamped her jaw shut and put her head down, breathing in deeply and finally opening her eyes, staring back at him with no emotion.

Sivok was shocked. She could...control herself? He wondered if that control would hold up under further pressure, and was tempted to find out.

"This section is done. Now stop arguing with me and finish yours with your oh-so-powerful techniques." She stood up and walked to the opposite of the sphere before leaning back down, much to his personal relief.

He worked quickly through his section and then met her on the other side, working in silence. She finally broke it.

"You know we have to get along. We have two years to work together, every day."

He shifted uncomfortably, already plotting on somehow getting out of spending hours per day with this...distracting woman. "I am aware of my assignment. Please do not waste my time reiterating what I already know."

She breathed in sharply. "You know wha-"

"Hey, Cecilia! Don't tell me you pulled another all nighter." Sivok's eyes scanned the room for the voice behind them, and noticed tall young human making his way towards their POD. He leaned down and put his hands on Matteson's shoulders.

Sivok looked at the hand on her shoulder and the image of him breaking it quickly flashed through his mind, shocking him to his core. Where had his control gone? Serious meditation was in order.

He knew humans touched each other casually, but this seemed more intimate somehow. Like they knew each other well, perhaps they were even mates. He squinched the feeling in his gut.

"That's Lieutenant to you, Cadet." She replied sternly, shifting his hands off her shoulders.

"Oh come on." He smiled sultrily and leaned back towards her. "I'm not on duty yet, you're not supposed to be here at all today, and I thought we were friends. You said I could call you Cecilia!"

She huffed. "Before I knew you were in Starfleet."

"I'm not under your command! You don't have anyone under your command, unless…"

He looked over at Sivok, who stiffened in reply. "I am not a member of Starfleet, nor will I ever be."

The Cadet raised his eyebrows but smiled ruefully. "Well, you're lucky to work with Cecilia here."

"She ordered you not to address her by her given name. You will respect her wishes, and her rank above you, Cadet," Sivok retorted, surprising both of the humans and resulting in an extremely awkward silence as the two men glared at each other.

"Um, I guess I'll introduce the two of you," Matteson started, seeking to break whatever was going on. "This is Doctor Sivok of the Vulcan Science Academy. He will be assisting in the design and installation of a new medical manufacturing system based on his research, and I will be building the storage and logistics routes to manage the finished products, as well as his samples in the meantime."

Sivok nodded towards the blonde human.

"Sivok, this is Cadet Pike. He's a third year student at the Academy and the head intern under Commander Bines of the medical warehousing control center. Our parents are...acquainted."

"You can call me Christopher." Pike smiled in reply, and turned back towards Matteson, "I have to get to a class soon."

"Yes, leave." Sivok replied before she had the chance to reply, and turned back towards the POD. She threw Pike an apologetic glance, and Pike winked back at her as he sauntered out of the room.

She looked back towards Sivok, who was staring deeply into the node, and shrugged. They quickly finished their project, and she left to care for other work (despite it being her day off), leaving Sivok to his own thoughts.

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After completing a few hours of adjustments and ensuring his almost-killed organisms were recovering adequately, Sivok walked with determination to the main office in the warehousing department, and over to the medical section.

He opened the door, and immediately had the illogical urge to leave. The desk was manned by the head intern, Cadet Pike, who had disrespected Lt. Matteson earlier that morning. He fought the urge to scowl.

The cadet called out with a friendly smile. "Can I help you, Doctor?"

"I require 24/7 access to the promised facilities."

"Right away, I'll just need to you to sign off on a few things..."

After 12.41 minutes of paperwork and verifications, and unacceptably slow pace in Sivok's view, the paperwork was finally cleared and his access was granted.

"Do you need anything else, Doctor?"

Sivok paused, looking at the cadet. The memory of his intrusion that morning sprang to mind against his will, along with the tight feeling in his chest that accompanied it. He made up his mind in that second.

"Yes, I require a new logistics director. Lt. Matteson is unacceptable."

Pike drew up and tilted his head, trying to keep himself even. "In what way?"

"She uses inefficient procedures." And she was distracting to him, and they had shared far too much physical contact, but Sivok wasn't about to mention that.

Pike ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I can request a transfer for you for the Commander to approve. But there's no point in asking for someone more efficient, she's the best at every part of the job, hands down."

"I find that hard to believe."

Pike scowled. "Listen, if you want someone else, that's fine. But don't file a complaint against her on the grounds of incapacity." He leaned into the drawer, thumbing through it and pulling out a data slate and plugging it into the PADD.

"Here, the results from the last round of assessments. Pick who you want to request. You'll see Lt. Matteson has input a lot more data, and that's because she loves the benchmark exercises."

Pike looked up with a dreamy look. "Everyone else avoids them, but she always wants to improve her capacity. It's the kind of work ethic and eye for precision I plan on carrying as an officer when I'm deployed."

Sivok was only getting more annoyed looking at this young human, and it showed slightly as he grabbed the PADD from Pike's hand and flicked through the results.

She was good.

Much better than the others, and more so than he saw last night. In fact, her deliverable numbers were on par with the VSAs, and Sivok reluctantly accepted he would work with her out of professional duty to excellence, distracting or not.

He looked up to Pike's expectant face.

"I retract my complaint. I will keep her for myself."

Sivok immediately regretted his choice of words as Pike raised an eyebrow, but he turned without further comment and went back down the corridor, eager to get to work and cast the experiences of the last day out of his mind.

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Matteson jolted awake and looked around quickly, relieved her new logical college hadn't caught her dozing off on the job. Or Pike, her childhood acquaintance who apparently still had a thing for older women.

She was technically off today, but was working nonetheless, and worked all night to boot. She glanced at the clock, 1900 hours. Or at the moment, better known as bedtime.

She stretched and yawned as she got up from her desk, rising to collect her belongings and head home on the public transport.

"Oh! Sorry…" She quickly knelt down to pick up the fallen PADDs, and winced as the hands that leaned down were an olive shade trimmed in a black, Vulcan-style suit.

"You are tired. As I've said, return to your home and rest."

She smiled tightly, trying to stop a yawn. "Yes, you have said. And I was doing so right now. I am tired, I'm sorry for not watching closer."

He nodded as she pulled herself to her feet, intentionally not offering his help.

"I'll see you tomorrow Sivok. I'm glad we can work together."

He nodded again and stared into her eyes, still not saying anything.

"Well, uh, I'll see you around."

"Ensure you sleep adequately. I need you to be mentally alert for our work tomorrow, as it will be challenging for a human."

She rolled her eyes, so the human comments were still coming.

What a strange morning it had been, and she had a feeling deep in her gut things were only about to get stranger.

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The room was sparsely furnished and his personal belongings were few, but neither of these things mattered to Sivok.

He just needed to meditate and get over today, once and for all. Settling over the flame, he started to think about the events he had incurred.

His trip from Vulcan.

Efficient. No delays, a peaceful trip on the VSA operated vessel.

Shel'rel, the satisfaction of all variables behaving as expected, and one of the few fully acceptable emotions.

The delays on the transport.

Stressful due to the risk to his samples, the passengers and crew were obnoxious, and it wrecked his itinerary.

Sher'rek, annoyance at the widespread failure of desired variables. As long as it doesn't lead to anger or outward reaction, it was an acceptable emotion to be efficiently suppressed in meditation, something he did with practiced ease.

The first encounter with Matteson.

The memory of her jogging to the door with her long reddish-blonde hair splaying behind her immediately surfaced to the top of his mind. She wasted no time on ceremony, immediately attempting to plan their manual transference of the samples to the warehouse, as misguided as her plan to walk in reverse with human agility was.

The emotions that accompanied the memory were unfamiliar, and unable to name it, he simply stomped them down into the depths of his mind, hoping not to see them again. Mostly, he had been annoyed at the delay, something he already addressed in his consideration of the transport.

Her insistence on staying.

It was the early hours of the morning when he arrived, and while he was relieved she had stayed to let him in, it was now time for her to rest. Humans simply did not have the stamina of his kind, this had been proved time and time again.

But she had demanded she would stay, despite his logical counterarguments. He analyzed the emotion that surfaced with the memory of their arguments, and was surprised: anger. Not anger for her refusal to leave him to his work, through he was annoyed by that, but anger she wouldn't take care of herself.

After some consideration, this made logical sense. He was a medical professional, and their project was to improve the health of others and save lives. If they couldn't take care of themselves, how could they do so for others?

He would ensure to discuss this with her in the upcoming days, and having identified its source, he quickly repressed the emotions related.

Their physical encounter.

This was where the problem began. She had confronted him aggressively, and he had been displeased with her behavior. When he went to remove her from his person while continuing to block her from the POD console, he had inadvertently touched her hand, sparking a momentary telepathic connection.

Chills had run up his arm and down his spine, and he had to actively fight a shiver. But as went to break the connection, he sensed the spark of her recent thoughts.

She was attracted to him.

Barely, but it was there, and much deeper than she realized.

The memory of his emotions on this moment were confusing. Regret, dislike, fear, thrill, anger, loneliness, passion, surprise: it was all there as he focused on that split second.

Trying to untangle them was only making it worse, and bringing back other thoughts from his past he no interest in considering that evening, so he shoved them all down as he had before, and moved on from the memory, deciding to analyze his responses instead of hers.

Her admirable skills.

He had been reminding himself how unequal they were to each other as they began to work, even convincing himself he would re-do her work and point out her flaws, to remind her how unequal they were.

But that plan had backfired when he couldn't find any mistakes, and had matched his own work. Then, insinuating they that she had to check his work! The annoyance rose again in him. Sy'kol'ir, the sting of a failed plan.

Acknowledging the cause, he repressed it as well.

Their project on the floor.

The unfortunate location of the nodes on the POD had them on the ground, working in close quarters. Her chaotic patterns, sounds, and incessant shifting were distracting, and were damaging his productivity. He recognized his nervousness at the possibility that his distraction around her would continue, but suppressed that, deciding it was caused by the revelation of her attraction.

He worked through the rest of his memories of the day, identifying and suppressing the emotions as he encountered them.

Coming out of the exercise, he knew his primary problem was the disturbing instinctual reactions he had towards Lt. Matteson, but he still didn't understand it they were stemming from.

Perhaps he had already been around humans too much? But where?

The transport. That was the first event, and likely caused a chain reaction through the rest of the day. The further reactions towards her were the result of the brief telepathic contact in their unfortunate physical encounter.

It was natural to respond to her attraction, but now he would suppress it and it would have no further bearing on him.

Coming out of his meditation two hours later, he was confident he was in control and would have no further problems.

Now, he just had to keep it up for two more years, and everything would be fine.

He could handle it.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Meditation process based Tuvok's comments in VOY.
> 
> NEWLY EDITED! The amazing Tom Foolery offered to beta these chapters, and has improved the writing quality 100 times over. I'm extremely honored to have one ST:2009's best writers beta something I wrote!
> 
> Please review as critically as possible, especially for young Pike. I have no clue how to write him, and he plays a larger role later in the story.


	2. Chapter Two

One week later

Sivok breezed through the door, shaking off the awful humidity of San Francisco and breathing in the relief of the standardized environment of the bio warehouse.

With his identity electronically confirmed, he turned to find Tilk, his young and lanky Vulcan lab tech, standing waiting for him.

"Osu."

Sivok nodded in recognition. "Have you completed your analysis of the anomaly in the secondary module?"

"I am awaiting the computer to finish the diagnostic. It will be completed in two hours and twelve minutes."

"Very well. Continue."

Sivok began reviewing the paperwork on the progress of the modifications of the software for retrofitting the current Starfleet flexible use manufacturing systems. A few hours later, he received a message on his PADD.

FROM: Lt. Cecelia Matteson

MESSAGE: F5 SD C29 hurry

Sivok knew from memorizing the warehousing and storage complex's floorplan that this was the coordinates of a 5th floor, section D storage cell.

His first instinct was to reply and ask why, and remind her he was busy and was neither a security officer nor a moving assistant. Despite his thoughts against doing so, Sivok found himself speeding down the hallway and into the lift.

"Floor five."

He arrived at cell #29 and found the door cracked, wondering what was going on.

"Sivok?"

"I am here."

He walked through the door to find quite the display. The entire cell was torn apart, boxes chaotically jumbled everywhere and things strewn across the floor.

"Come here, Sivok! I found it!"

Sivok fought the urge to scowl as he stepped across the debris and towards the sound of Matteson's voice. Why had she called him here? Or rather, why had he come with so little resistance?

The last week had gone comparatively well, with him settling into a routine of working with his two assistants during the day, communicating with command, and debating the finer points of it all with Matteson as they worked on the storage system design.

She lifted herself off the ground and held something towards him. "LHDS coupling."

He took the device from her hands and tilted his head. "What does it do?"

"Increases the transference speed between the timing gauge and the electronic eye by about 4% - you might be able to shave three tenths of a second off."

"That could make a substantial impact on the lifecycle deficiency in the second cooling phase."

"I know! That's why I was so excited to find them," she smiled as she motioned towards the boxes on the ground around her.

He opened the small device and examined its circuitry. "I have not encountered this technology before. Why are these not in the Federation database?"

She was quiet for a moment, turning away from him busying herself with attempting to clean up the mess that was the storage cell.

"The project was abandoned when the lead researcher died. That was 15 years ago, and the technology in the HC chip has improved dramatically since. They didn't really work then, but I'm confident with some tinkering they will now."

Sivok raised an eyebrow at her suddenly subdued voice. "Where did you encounter this? I have personally examined every potentially applicable transference interface in the Federation and Vulcan databases."

She turned back towards him, and he was startled by the sudden sadness in her usually alert but neutral eyes. "The researcher was my father. Nobody saw an application back then, so nobody took it seriously. I only thought of it this morning."

"I grieve with thee."

She smiled. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad they can be put to use. Anyhow, I need you to help me get these out."

"Can you not call for assistance?"

"Yeah, well, I don't want lots of people in here."

He looked at the mess and nodded. "I can see why."

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just, this is my dad's old lab work, and, well...nevermind. It's not logical. I'll just call for assistance."

Sivok was mildly surprised she changed her course of action based on logic, and knew he should simply allow her to request assistance from the warehouse staff as was proper.

But the same force that brought him up here in the first place led him to speak without further consideration of his words.

"That is not necessary. I will...assist you in moving the containers. No other individuals are needed."

He steadied his breath as she gave him a big, genuine smile. He took a slight step back, suddenly concerned she might touch him again, but she stayed where she was.

"Thanks! It's for your samples, after all."

"Also, I am three times stronger than the ensigns who would assist you otherwise. It is only logical that I would be better for you than a human."

He slightly winced at his phrasing while she rolled her eyes playfully, thankfully missing the second part of his comment that could be misinterpreted.

Why was he making these linguistic slips?

He decided it was because his command of Federation standard was not perfect, and vowed to increase his studies of the language as it was apparently needed in social and information conversational settings.

"Yeah, yeah. Come show how superior you are at physics and figure out how to get these things out."

After 20 minutes of reorganizing, with him moving the boxes and her picking everything up, the door to the storage cell finally clicked shut and automatically locked.

"Let's get these downstairs and get to work."

"Is it not time for midday meal?"

She narrowed her eyes. "And yet you keep complaining about how weak humans are in their constant need for breaks."

He drew up. "It is logical to consume the necessary calories and nutrients for proper physical function. However, I do not require it at this time."

"Well neither do I." She crossed her arms.

He gave a slight sigh. "It would be wise for you to stop attempting to match my performance. You need considerably more sleep, breaks, fluid, and food than I require for survival."

"It would also be wise for you to stop underestimating my performance, considering the evidence to contrary. And requiring something for survival isn't the same as requiring it to be healthy and perform optimally."

She turned her head, watching him carefully. "You might not need these things to stay alive, but I'm sure you need just as much maintenance as I do truly be balanced and healthy."

He fell silent, privately admitting she had hit on an unspoken misdirection - they were not technically lies - perpetuated by his people.

While it was true he didn't need the same amount of sleep, he did require hours of meditation per day to thrive.

And while he could go without food for longer, he also required substantially more calories and physical activity than her to maintain his present ratio of fat and muscle.

That she noticed showed a further depth of consideration into him and his species than he expected from her, considering logistics had no diplomatic facing elements.

She subtly smirked and picked up the first set of boxes, heading down the hall and he forced himself to not look at her as she departed.

What was he getting himself into?

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Matteson stood up on the tips of her toes, her lunch sack in hand, trying to get a look at the figure on the other side of the garden dividing wall.

She couldn't see the shape of the figure's ears from their silhouette through the fabric barrier, but there was someone back there and it smelled like they were cooking something she couldn't identify.

One of the warehouse assistants had said that a Vulcan staff member had a habit of going to the roof top gardens of the manufacturing and logistics complex and doing his darndest to scare everyone else away and eat alone in the walled off area.

The poor girl had been terribly upset, saying she and her friends had simply been eating when a Vulcan came over to assert they were disturbing the peace of the public area with their conversation and he would call security if they did not keep silent.

She had been quite confident who the Vulcan in question was, and if he didn't stop acting like such as ass, he was going to get them both in trouble.

Sighing, she rounded the corner to find Sivok staring at what looked like a portable heating unit making a humming noise.

As a light turned green on the device, he opened the lid to reveal a dish she had never seen before, and looked up to glare at her.

"Are you lost?"

"Of course not. I just figured I'm tired of eating down there, and I needed some fresh air. You know, to get my blood pumping and in the mood to get some good work done."

"There are many places outdoors to sit, and other areas on this rooftop."

She plopped down right next to him, causing him to tense up. "Yeah, but this is the best view right here. There is no place better to sit than this spot. Well, you've actually got the best spot of all, but this is great too."

He gave her a pointed look. "There is no view: this area of the garden is walled in."

"Exactly! The people-free view, that's why you're up here, right? You know, I used to eat here all the time, before I just started eating at my desk. The whole point of this area is to avoid everyone else."

"If that is true, than your presence nullifies its purpose."

"Not between friends, right?"

"We are not friends."

She laughed. "Whatever you say. What did you think of the proposal from Commander Hendricks that I sent you?"

He relented, causally discussing work as they ate their respective meals.

It had been a week since she had exposed herself emotionally to him a tiny bit in the storage cell, and two weeks since the fateful night he showed up at 0200.

Thankfully, Matteson had noticed small improvements in his behavior since then.

He argued a lot less, often quickly giving in as he just did. His insults were less intense and less frequent. He spoke positively about his human lab assistant's work, though he also said she was extremely shy.

Perhaps he was starting to warm up to humanity after all.

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Every moment on this dreaded planet was wearing away at Sivok's soul, or at least that's what he had decided, in all of its illogic.

Why did these humans have to so loud and obnoxious?

He leaned over the meditation candle and inhaled deeply, correctly positioning his hands for the exercise.

There were four humans he had to interact with regularly, and amazingly two of them were manageable. The first was his lab assistant, a young woman named Emily Chambal.

She was quiet to the point he hardly noticed she was there, which he was thankful for. She seemed terrified of him, but had worked with Tilk for over a year and whispered questions and comments to the young Vulcan lab tech frequently.

He hadn't gotten to pick the Starfleet lab reps, but he had been gifted with two capable and mostly silent ones, once of whom was Vulcan. For this he was grateful.

Then there were the two Command interfaces: Cadet Pike, who managed all transferences and incoming/outgoing, and Commander Jira, who tortured him with his mere existence.

Sivok had to concede that Pike had technically done nothing wrong. He had approved all of his requests and everything had been on schedule so far, though Sivok had no confidence such a trend would continue.

Pike had a pleasant but serious demeanor, and clearly had great commitment to Starfleet. That commitment was of course misplaced in such a barbaric organization, but was admirable all the same for a member of a species so known for their fickle nature.

It seemed his problems with the cadet weren't professional, but personal.

The casual and intimate interactions with Matteson were deeply bothersome, and angered Sivok to extents he couldn't fully repress in meditation, as he couldn't find a source to dissect.

No matter how much he mentally broke down their interactions, there was no cause for his deep and undeserved dislike of the young cadet, and this was worrisome from the perspective of his emotional controls.

His current strategy was to avoid interactions with him as much as possible, but despite his resolve to do so, he always seemed to find himself in Matteson's workspace when the cadet was likely to stop by.

Then there was the manufacturing Starfleet rep, Commander Jira.

Sivok's frustration with the obnoxious human was equal to his dislike for Pike, except Jira deserved it. He fought every recommendation Sivok made and was clearly emotionally handicapped for such a role.

Even Matteson had taken his side on that, saying he had "gotten some bad luck" on having Jira assigned, and the VSA had so far been unable to get a new rep.

Matteson.

In the eighteen Earth days he had been on this awful planet, she had been a source of great comfort and confusion.

Comfort because she was tolerable. Perhaps not truly logical, but she was open to it and didn't simply let her emotions lead her. She was also perceptive, and most importantly, highly skilled at her work.

They saw each other everyday when they worked on the storage system, and communicated about their projects via messaging even when he was elsewhere.

Every day for the past five days she had intruded on his lunch, and even when he moved locations, she had still found him.

But he was starting not to mind; she was a welcome refuge from the other insufferable humans.

But she was also distracting.

His eidetic memory picked up all kinds of facts about her he wish he didn't know.

For example, every day they had eaten together or he had inspected her lunch in the office, he noted she had only ever consumed vegetarian foods. He also noticed she never ate in the cafeteria and always brought her lunch.

She was always alone, except for the dreaded times when Pike came to visit. She kept her computer access projected on the large console in her office, and he had never seen the box labeled 'PERSONAL MESSAGES' display anything but a zero.

Perhaps she had a home console? He knew her father was dead but knew nothing else about her family.

He understood that most mate-searching activities were conducted on the evenings of Friday, or during the Earth days Saturday or Sunday. She typically worked very late on these days, which suggested she did not participate in the disgusting mating practices of her planet.

Not that he cared who she mated with, of course. She had been attracted to him when he first arrived, but she now showed no indication of it and he had decided to put it aside.

His research said humans experienced random sexual urges toward strangers that they were often unaware of - even when they already had mates! - and that such feelings typically dissipated quickly with no further actions taken.

Furthermore, since he was unused to human emotions, perhaps he misread the depth of her attraction in their brief, accidental telepathic encounter.

Sivok assured himself his interest in her romantic state was nothing more than scientific curiosity of the local population, though that curiosity admittedly manifested nowhere besides Matteson.

He considered why she continued to be so distracting, and eventually settled upon the logical conclusion that she was unlike the other humans and therefore stood out, demanding attention as a result.

Par'sel'ker, the break of a pattern attracting undue attention.

All he had to do was ignore the other humans further, and then he wouldn't notice her differences, and she wouldn't be as distracting.

Logical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Tilk has an odd name, but there's a bit of canon precedent with Tos and Tolaris in ENT. I just wanted him to stand out from Sivok and not give him a S-k name. I imagine it's kind of like a human named Archibald or Broderick today.
> 
> A big, big thank you to Tom Foolery for their encouragement, advice, and amazing beta skills. (Current version is a re-post of their beta.) If you like Sarek/Amanda, they wrote one of the best, go check it out.
> 
> Please review as critically as possible, or just to say hello!


	3. Chapter 3

_Two weeks later._

Sivok looked down uncomfortably at his pak'tar.

Why had he agreed to do this? Right. That was it - to protect the one human of continuous interaction he could fully tolerate.

It was a break of Vulcan proprietary. Well, it _mostly_ was. They were trading their meals, not sharing or gifting. He had insisted on reciprocating when she said she would bring him lunch, as to reduce the appearance she was attending him.

He could still back out, but decided to go ahead with it, as she had been ordered by a ranking officer to do so.

_Commander Jira crossed his arms and scowled. "What do you mean you refuse to expose yourself to our cuisine?"_

" _I see no reason to partake in questionably prepared substance of ambiguous health benefit."_

_The Commander's scowl deepened. "You are such a...gah! You're_ _**not** _ _accompanying Starfleet to the conference and then refusing to eat the food we're providing for the entire event. Requesting special accommodations for no reason will make us look bad! And there is nothing wrong with its preparation!"_

" _What's going on in here?" Matteson rounded the corner, but then stopped._

" _Commander."_

" _Matteson! Teach your friend here how to eat on the planet he's_ _ **choosing**_ _to live on."_

" _Excuse me, sir?"_

" _Give him some pizza or something. I don't know, just provide the doctor here with some questionably prepared of food ambiguous nutritional value," he quoted, glaring at Sivok._

" _And that's an order."_

" _Yes sir," she replied wearily as Jira stormed past._

Such an order was extremely illogical and he could take it up with the VSA. The commander had no right to order to him to do anything, but Matteson wasn't so fortunate, and he saw no reason to punish her.

"You're early." She sat down in her normal spot next to him in the covered patio. He had moved around the small area, insisting she could have the 'best view' as she had termed it, but wherever he moved she claimed the 'view' followed.

"Pak'tar, a traditional Vulcan dish." He held out the container towards her.

"Vegetarian Swedish gnocchi." She provided her own matching set of containers.

They both opened the lids and looked at their new lunches, seemingly steeling themselves for the first bite.

"On three?" she asked with a smile.

He tilted his head in question.

"We both take a forkful, and then I count to three, and we both eat."

"I have not yet witnessed synchronized eating in your culture. In fact, humans seem to eat randomly and aggressively, even putting food in their mouth as they speak."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I'll just take a bite."

She put the alien vegetable in her mouth and chewed. He did the same.

For a few seconds, neither said anything. They both swallowed their samples and continued to look forward without comment.

He turned towards her. "What do you think?"

"It's…..different."

"You do not like it."

She winced. "I can't say it's good, but I think I can get the rest down."

She suddenly coughed but then smiled at him. "Ah sorry. Breathed in wrong."

He raised an eyebrow.

"What about you? What do you think of the gnocchi?"

"It is vile."

She started but then rolled her eyes and looked away. "And here I was trying to be friendly and choke down whatever _this_ is."

"Our culinary tastes have developed differently. It is not unreasonable they are not compatible."

She looked contemplative for a moment. "Yeah. Anyhow, let's just switch."

To Sivok's absolute horror, she reached her fork towards the gnocchi, stabbing the round parcel and bring it towards her mouth.

They couldn't share food from the same dish! That was improper in every way, one of the most intimate acts that propriety strictly prohibited. It denoted a connection that was much deeper than he would ever allow to develop...

He broke _that_ thought. Ever **could** develop, as such a thing was impossible, not a matter of allowance.

Acting quickly to prevent such a horrific occurrence, he grabbed the fork from her hand and threw it behind him into the bush, then looked over to Matteson's shocked face.

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The first thought that registered was that his reflexes were far faster than she had ever imagined. She barely saw his hand move!

The second was the absolute shock of what he had just done. _Did he just grab the fork from her hand and throw it into a bush?_

What kind of a lunatic would do such a thing? What did he have against that fork, and why was he just silently sitting and staring at her now?

She leaned forward, awaiting an explanation.

"It is improper for us to share food."

"What?! We're not sharing, we're trading back. We tried switching, it's 'vile.' There's no logical reason not to switch back."

His lips turned down ever so slightly at her attempt to use logic against him, and it made her laugh within the privacy of her own mind.

"It is improper and unsanitary."

"Unsanitary? We used clean forks once. No part of our bodies, nor anything that had been in our mouths before has been in either dish. Except the gnocchi, which I've now infected with my evil human cooties that I'm pretty sure aren't cross-species compatible anyhow."

He raised an eyebrow at her cooties comment and she reached forward for her dish, but he rapidly moved to dump it into the bush, too!

Her mouth fell open. "What is wrong with you?"

"As I have said repeatedly, such an act is highly improper."

She leaned back and crossed her arms. "In what way?"

He shifted around slightly, seemingly uncomfortable. "It is a highly intimate act between close family and bonded mates. Between a male and female who not mates, it is very… _untoward_."

She looked down and breathed out deeply, trying to see his point of view. She knew there were alien cultures that allowed strangers to place their hands on a woman's breasts in the same way she could touch someone's shoulder.

While she would be horrified if someone came up and groped her, they would simply be confused and think her over sensitive.

She noticed Sivok studying her closely, as if deeply intrigued by her actions. Had he never watched a human _think_ before?

Then again, considering the behavior of some humans - the man who ordered her to do this awful 'training exercise' came to mind - perhaps he had only seen humans who lost their temper at the slightest push.

"Very well. Am I to expect this must be disposed of as well?" she motioned to her pak'tar.

He nodded. "I can send you the volume of Surak's teachings on propriety."

She snorted. "Don't bother, I'm not going to read it. I'm not a diplomat or even serving on a Starship. I don't **have** to bend to your culture on my planet."

She paused. "Would you put any thought to human cultural standards if it was reversed? What if I was the hostile guest at the VSA and you were the native?"

He tensed but didn't answer.

_That's what she thought._

She stood up, collecting her utensils from the _bush_ and grumbling about the thorns.

To her surprise he quickly pulled her away gently and reached in to retrieve them for her, though it seemed like the least he could do.

They disposed of their 'contaminated' food and began to walk down the hall. He seemed pensive as they got to the lift, and she tilted her head in question.

"As this is your planet, and I had not explained Vulcan eating requirements before the planned activity, I would like to offer to fix my oversight and purchase your lunch off of Starfleet property."

She turned, shocked. "You're going to take me out to eat?"

He stiffened. "Doesn't 'taking out' mean…"

She laughed. "No, well, yes. In some contexts, but not here. It simply means you offered to pay."

He looked slightly less concerned. "Then yes I am offering to 'take you out' in a professional context."

She smiled. "I accept then. In this context, of course."

He nodded but avoided her gaze.

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"We'll go right at this corner, and then it's on the left about a kilometer up the road."

"You are positive this establishment offers vegan selections?"

She smiled at him. "That's _all_ they offer."

He nodded in agreement and they continued on, passing the military museum which she pointed out.

"Some of the exhibits are disturbing. I once stopped in on a whim to a new exhibit late in the evening, it had video from all three World Wars. I had vivid nightmares for weeks. Have you been?"

"I have no desire to witness the atrocities of your race."

She gave him a pointed look. "Surely Vulcan had wars. Before you all became logical and lost your manners."

He nodded, ignoring the second half of the comment. "Many. And for 300 years, most were nuclear."

"Then do you not study that history at all?"

He tilted his head. "We do. However, that is to learn from the past and ensure it does not repeat. Learning from humanity's past has no such benefit to me."

She sighed. "I see. Well, what have you seen in the city?"

"I have not left the compound, except to visit the Vulcan consulate twice and take transportation back to my home."

She spun around and stopped. "This is your first time out of the warehouse campus except to sleep and do paperwork?"

He nodded but kept going. "I would prefer to minimize my exposure to your emotional species."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. You can't live on an alien world for two years and see and do nothing. Think of all of the beautiful and educational sites!"

"There is plenty of that within the compound."

"Education I get, but beautiful sites?"

The image of carrying the container in the early hours of the morning when he first arrived, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing in her wake as she quickly moved to unlock each door in the high-security bio warehouse immediately sprang to mind, and he shoved it down.

She was human. She was _not_ the beautiful site on the compound.

She was perhaps exotic by his people's standards, but hardly an object of aesthetic desire. He realized she was silent, awaiting his reply.

He slowly looked towards her, calculating to ensure he would give no indication on the scandalous nature of his thoughts. "I do not require such activities."

She sighed loudly. "We've already been through the require versus participate debate too many times. I know you don't _require_ it: neither do I. I'm starting to think citing technical requirements to survive is a standard Vulcan cop-out.

He glanced away.

She was picking up on way too much about his people in a short of a time. He was afraid to think what she might notice and postulate after two years of exposure, and he didn't like the answer.

"Face it Sivok. You're a hermit. You need to get out more."

He narrowed his eyes. "The same could be said for you. You work long double and triple shifts, and come in on your days off."

She huffed, but he went on. "Furthermore, when you are gone for extended periods, you return and describe the work you did while you were gone. I estimate your leisure activities have totaled less than four hours since I arrived."

"And how would you estimate that? You don't know me that well, unless you've been canvassing my house!"

"I do not know where you live. Such a task is therefore impossible, nor would I waste my time on such an activity."

"Since you're also so concerned about my lack of leisure that you've taken to tracking my schedule and attempting to estimate the breakdown of my time…"

"I have done no such thing."

"Really?" She came to a halting stop and crossed her arms.

Now that he thought about it, by estimating her leisure time against her time in the office, he had done _exactly_ that. More concerningly, he had already done so before this conversation, as he had considered the fact before.

Why did he think about this human so much? And here he had been today, allowing them to prepare food for each other and then offering to buy her lunch.

Had she been a half a second faster in taking a bite of her repulsive dish, or he been half a second slower with stopping her efforts, _they would have shared a meal that she had prepared for him._

This was less than a month of interaction. Perhaps he couldn't last two years on this planet. No, his disciplines were better than that. And the humans weren't that capable. He simply had to be more focused on his controls.

At his long silence, she seemingly gave up and started walking again. He followed behind her, but then sped up to match her pace, not liking the mental analogies walking in such a way drew.

"Fine. We're both going out. Let's…"

She paused as a hover bus passed by, looking at its advertisement.

"Let's go to the opening of the new history and science museum. Next Friday at 1900 hours. It'll be educational _and_ beautiful. I'll pick you up from your lab."

He watched her disappear into the vegan shop called The Golden Leaf.

She had pulled her hair down on the trip claiming the band gave her a headache, and the wavy texture was now visible, with gold highlights illuminated in the midday sun.

_Yes, it would be educational and beautiful._

Sivok assured himself that he was referring to the museum's potential qualities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! I have very thick skin and your comments and messages, positive OR critical, are encouraging. :-)
> 
> Big, big thank you to Tom Foolery for editing this chapter! The current version is a re-post of their edits.


	4. Chapter 4

Matteson looked at the door to his lab and wondered if she was making a mistake.

He didn't even technically agree to go the exhibit opening: she told him she would pick him up and they didn't discuss it further.

In the midst of her thoughts, the door opened.

"You are late."

"I'm standing right here. It's 1902."

"That is late. You specified 1900 hours."

"I've been here since before 1900."

"But not inside, which means you are still late."

"Could you please stop being you? Just for tonight?" She said as she folded her hands and batted her eyelashes.

He raised an eyebrow, having previously debated her highly illogical assertion that he could be anyone but himself for certain periods of time, or would want to be.

"Well, since we're running behind by a schedule-shattering two minutes, let's get going, or you'll make us late," she quipped with coy smile.

He turned his head and nodded towards the Vulcan lab tech inside, as the human had gone home for end-meal, and then shut the door behind him and followed her down the hall and into the lift.

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The San Francisco evening was cool, but the museum wasn't far, so they decided to walk rather than wait for transport.

"How far is the distance to the museum?"

"Another kilometer or so. Can your legs handle it?" she teased.

"Of course. It is unusual that you can. I have noticed many humans will wait for transport for the shortest of distances."

"Yeah, well, I run marathons."

"I have noticed you often walk from what I presume is your home."

She gave him a crooked smile. "Stalking me again?"

He glared at her and decided to change the subject.

"What is the topic of the exhibit?"

"I'm not sure which one we'll go to, they're opening a new building with a lot in it."

"You did not perform further research? It is unlike you to not be thorough."

She glared at him. "I saw it on a hover bus the same time you did. How would I have time to do research in two seconds?"

"It has been days since then."

"Yeah, well, when I looked in the programs-" she stopped in her tracks. "Was that a compliment?"

"No, I was commenting on the number of Earth days that have passed since-"

"Not that! The comment on thoroughness."

Sivok shifted ever so slightly. "No, it was not a compliment. It was an observation that you perform your work to an unusually complete standard in comparison to other humans, though significantly less than a Vulcan."

She rolled her eyes and started walking again. "Uh huh. What you call 'Vulcan complete,' I call wasting hours and hours verifying things you already knew."

"Attributes such as that have propelled Vulcan to the forefront of technological development."

"And it took 1,500 years by your own admission, in comparison to our 100."

His nostrils flared in reply, but she continued on.

"You know, I've always wondered why Vulcans can have perfect memories, super long lives, do nothing but work, and barely be ahead of the rest of the Alpha Quadrant. Shouldn't you people be traveling at warp 20 and have sensors that can see into the future?"

She looked over and met his eyes. "Now I know why - you're perfectionists. There's an old human saying, perfect is the enemy of done."

He seemed almost angry at her accusation. "A lack of of completeness will lead to critical problems and failures, as your history is littered with."

"There's a fine line, and I am thorough, as you pointed out. But there's an ideology among humans that it's better to move faster and make mistakes then spend forever running simulations and still not be able to control the final environment."

"As I said, the effects of that ideology can be seen clearly in your disastrous history."

They were silent as they finished the trip to the museum.

"I don't think you know our history that well, Sivok."

Sivok's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. Matteson was incorrect, he did know their history.

He had studied this planet to come and live here. He had read the best Vulcan anthropologist's analysis, internalized their conclusions of humanity.

Surely, after nearly two centuries of contact, the VSA's materials on this well-documented species were accurate and complete.

He looked at the entrance to the museum, deciding he would use tonight to show her exactly how much he understood about her people.

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"Welcome. Do you have tickets pre-purchased?"

"No, I hope it's not too crowded?" Matteson smiled at the greeter and walked over to the desk.

As the two women completed the transaction, Sivok took the opportunity to look around.

The building had an architectural and interior style in line with modern human furnishings, but the decorations for the exhibit itself were quite curious.

And oddly familiar.

He walked up to the large sign near the entrance to the paid area, and had to hold his hands in place from reaching out and touching the yellow sand on the foot of the display, so like and unlike the sands of his home.

The Rediscovered Artifacts of Ancient Egypt

He was aware of Egypt in modern Earth, and was also familiar that the area had some ancient culture of interest, but had not researched that far back into this region of Earth.

That was highly unfortunate, if the exhibit had focused on a more recent period of human history or on a different area he would have been able to showcase more of his knowledge to her.

Not that he cared if she was impressed by his knowledge, of course.

She was human: he did not need her acceptance. Besides, they worked together everyday, she was surely aware of his capabilities by now.

Not that it mattered to him, Sivok assured himself.

"There's only six words on the sign. Surely you can read Standard faster than that."

He glared at her. "Have you finished procuring the tickets?"

"Yeah, with no help from you. You just walked off!" she sighed. "Let's go."

Once inside the museum, he glanced at his companion. "The sign said the artifacts are re-discovered. How were they lost before?"

"In WWIII. A lot of it was damaged, but thankfully some of it was pushed into the underground tunnels before the major cities were largely destroyed."

A man's voice interrupted from behind. "Also, the bombings to the area opened up tunnels that were previously unknown, and after first contact when rebuilding began, those ruins were able to be excavated."

She nodded and smiled. "Interesting, thank you."

He stretched out his hand. "Michael." She took it, "Cecilia."

"And you are?" He smiled and offered Sivok his hand as well, but Sivok said nothing in reply and simply stared him down.

After a moment of awkward silence, Matteson intervened. "Don't mind him. He's shy." She earned a death glare for her comment.

"Uh, alright, well, I'm the lead archeologist for the project. I'll be walking around tonight, let me know if you have any questions."

"Will do, thanks." She grabbed Sivok mid-arm and pulled him away, causing him to stiffen up.

"What is wrong with you? Why can't you just be friendly?"

He jerked his arm back. "Why did you supply him your given name to address you by?"

"Because there's no rank here and I'm not a great-grandmother who wants to be referred to as ma'am," she sighed. "You're such a pain. Let's just look at the displays and try to avoid any more encounters with real people."

"An excellent suggestion."

She moaned. "Why do I even bother?"

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They approached a sarcophagus along the wall within a giant glass case, and when she walked over to the information plate, it swirled to life with her movement.

"Who does this belong to?"

The computer chirped in reply. "Hatshepsut, fifth Pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt."

Sivok walked towards the screen, watching the timeline move back and forth as it plotted events along the line.

"What were his major accomplishments?"

Matteson pressed her finger to the screen to silence the computer. "Her major accomplishments."

He looked towards the general information screen on the rear wall, near another case of artifacts. "It says Pharaoh was a male title."

"The women who took it on had to ceremonially become men. The false beard, clothing, titles, even the way they spoke. Is was still a male title even when it was held by a female, at least for the period of which it was used, as the term fell out of use in about…" She tapped the screen a few times. "1200 BC."

"Very well. What were her accomplishments?"

"Much. She's considered by archeologists to be one of the greatest pharaohs to ever live, during ancient Egypt's most powerful period. It's interesting though, someone attempted to erase her from history by scratching out images of her from the walls."

She motioned to the hieroglyphic fragments on display all around them.

"Why?"

"It's still not known and probably never will be. They were attempting to delete her from the record, so recording why wouldn't have made a lot of sense."

"You know much about this period of your planet's history."

She smiled at him. "When I was very young, I wanted to be an archeologist."

"Why did you not pursue it?"

Her smiled fell. "Too much paperwork and networking. Also, it's really really hard to get the Earth-based positions. There's not much left to study and everyone wants them. So you have to go to space, and I...don't want to."

He looked like he was going to ask about her distaste for space travel, so she switched back to her original subject quickly to avoid the topic.

"Anyhow, this is the first time her sarcophagus and her mummified body have been reunited in many, many years."

She looked around at the ancient artifacts. "We're lucky they both survived the war. Any of this. I guess that's why it's called the re-discovered artifacts."

"There are other exhibits in this opening event, correct?"

"Yeah a whole building-" she motioned towards the side. "Do you not like this?"

"No, this is fine," he answered a little too quickly.

She glanced at him knowingly and they began to walk towards the case of statues from Egypt's Middle Kingdom.

"Lots of these exhibits focus on the realities of desert life. Does it remind you of your own history at all?"

He nodded. "The display near the front discussed their symbiotic relationship with the major water sources and how water trends determined population health and density."

He shifted a bit while staring into the pottery display, and Matteson thought he looked almost uncomfortable.

"It is the same on Vulcan, though in modern times the population is more evenly dispersed. In fact, many of the posted migration patterns and historical records in relation to handling drought and difficult agricultural conditions are nearly identical to those of my home region."

For a split second, as he continued to stare at the ancient jar, and she continued to stare at him, the silence between them in such sharp contrast to the loud noise of conversation behind them it was almost too much for him to bear.

But of course, she broke it.

"Wait a minute, no criticism? No remarks on how inefficient and barbaric they were? Something human was nearly identical to something Vulcan?"

She threw her head back and burst out laughing, causing him to close his eyes.

"You mean your people didn't handle the same conditions with a 1000 times the logical and physical stamina in comparison to mere humans?"

He breathed out heavily as she continued to laugh. "This is pre-reform. They did not yet have logic to guide them."

She stopped laughing. "Are some of the same practices carried on today?"

He looked even more uncomfortable. "Almost all of them are."

She went to speak but he quickly continued. "We are dedicated to preserving our traditions, and these are among them."

"But doesn't preserving a tradition that is illogical still imply you act illogically?"

He got stiffer than she had even seen him - impressive considering how high-strung he normally was - and then pointedly ignored the question.

"Our traditions and our history are what give us structure, and enable us to continue in peace. In ancient times, we waged devastating wars. But by embracing logic, we did not give up who we are. We now continue the ancient ways, but without the violence and death they once accompanied."

That sounded like a canned propaganda speech that probably dated back to the warring history, but Matteson decided not press it.

If he wanted to continuously attack humanity on their own planet, she had the right to point out the failings of his 'culturally superior' counterarguments.

But there was a line, and she got the feeling she had reached it.

"Speaking of your warring history, we looked at Hatshepsut earlier. Did Vulcan have any female regents?"

He nodded. "In ancient times, women did not have much influence. But the ones who managed to acquire and maintain their power were usually either highly effective, or ruthlessly violent."

"It's the same for Earth. Hatshepsut is believed to have been largely peaceful and more skilled in diplomatic foreign relations, but there were other warrior queens across the planet that were pretty terrifying."

She elbowed him lightly, and he didn't react as strongly as he had before. "See? We're not that different after all."

He studied her thoughtfully.

Without his usual Vulcan-edition bitch face on, she was reminded how handsome he actually was. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself.

But then the scowl was back and he quickly stepped away

"No, we are very different. Our differences are incogitable."

So much for progress.

They moved to the next display, the informational wall automatically re-setting as the previous couple left the area and the unlikely pair approached.

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As the computer explained the bust before them, Sivok spotted a large display down the path featuring information of the later periods that crossed over with Greek and Roman expansion.

Finally, something he could talk about to Matteson!

Being well versed in interpreting philosophy, as all Vulcans were, he had studied the Vulcan analysis of Greek and Roman philosophers before he arrived.

Sivok illogically wanted the computer to be finished, so they could distance themselves from this all-too-familiar era and into something he knew about.

The human named Michael was standing in that display chatting loudly about nothing of any relative importance, and Sivok was confident he could ensure the archeologist did not disrupt their conversation's flow again.

But most importantly, he wanted to prove to his companion that he had been prudent in his study of her planet, and any misgivings against his kind she had developed in their interactions were wholly inaccurate.

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Matteson stomped down the sidewalk, her arms crossed over her chest, walking at 3.4 times her normal speed.

Sivok picked up his pace to match her, still wondering when her human legs would get tired. He had noticed humans took this stance when they were emotionally compromised, but the source of her fury was still unclear to him.

After a while of near-sprint walking, she suddenly stopped and turned towards him, her eyes alit with red-hot anger.

"I can't believe you! How could you get us thrown out of a history museum?"

"His information on the entire period of Greek culture was riddled with inaccuracies and flawed interpretations-"

"He's the archeologist! The human archeologist! You're not either of those things!"

"A role is he clearly incapable or underqualified of filling, as I informed him-"

"Oh I know, I was there. Down to when you said you would be submitting to the VSA that their partnership with his alma mater- gosh, I have to go back and apologize tomorrow…"

"I see no reason-"

"Please stop. I...can't listen to this anymore right now."

She covered her face with her hands. "Why did I think taking you out in public was a good idea? I take back what I said before. Well, not really. You are a hermit, but you should stay one if you're going to act like this!"

"You are being emotional-"

"I'm in shock. I've known that you're not very sensitive, I've known that you don't care for the locals. But I thought that if I reached out to you and tried to bridge our cultural gap, if I was just understanding enough, you would start to meet me halfway."

She sighed deeply. "But I'm not sure now; I really don't think I can work with you anymore."

Sivok felt his chest constrict, and that strange emotion started to surface, the one he couldn't identify in meditation weeks ago, right after he first arrived.

The one he had hoped would leave and not come back.

"What do you mean?" he finally ground out.

She couldn't request a transfer. He would receive a new logistics director, and they would be human and fully unacceptable. It might even be the despicable Jira.

Matteson wasn't a Vulcan, but she was better than the others he had to choose from by far! No, she could not leave him.

At least not when he didn't even understand what he had done wrong. Maybe she could clarify, and he could explain himself and they could resume their usual schedule of working and lunch and everything would stabilize again.

Yes. That is what must happen.

"Please explain my error, and I will endeavour to correct it."

She looked shocked. "Is that an apology?"

He stood silently, and proceeded with caution, willing to say virtually anything to prevent having Jira or someone else assigned.

"Perhaps, but I cannot apologize for an offence I do not understand. Please enlighten me further and I will consider it."

She relaxed slightly. "Fine. I can imagine the-"

Unfortunately, the San Francisco evening sky took the opportunity to begin raining, which quickly intensified into a downpour.

They both dashed for cover, but the buildings around them were closed.

As they attempted to stand under an awning, still getting drenched due to the angle of the rain, she looked him over and sighed.

"How well can you handle getting wet?"

He brushed his soaked bangs back into place and glanced around, looking for someplace to go. "I can sustain the condition for some time. However, it could lead to health complications if-"

She interrupted him. "Then we should get inside. I'm not going to take any risks."

He look around into the downpour, leaning further against the building. "Where do you intend to go?"

She was silent for a few seconds and looked annoyed, seemingly arguing with her herself, but then sighed.

"To my apartment. It's less than a block away, we can run and then get you dried off inside. And then we can talk, I guess."

He opened his mouth to argue, but then looked back at the rain and stayed silent.

She gave him a weak smile.

"Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I want to comment on Matteson's assertion that Vulcans are comparatively slow in progress, because it is canon despite how Vulcans are often written in fics. Soval basically says it in ENT, making the timeline comparison, and you can see the perfectionism in action during VOY when Tuvok and Nelix are combined. He finishes in a few hours what Tuvok said would take him weeks.
> 
> A BIG thank you to the amazing Tom Foolery for offering to beta! They made the writing in these chapters a thousand times better, and I'm honored to have one of ST:2009's best writers beta something I made! If you like Sarek/Amanda, you should go read their (already finished!) story The Serendipity Paradox.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lights."

She glanced towards Sivok, who was now dripping wet from their sprint through the increasingly heavy rain.

"Let me get you a towel," she murmured and moved quickly towards the back rooms, giving him the opportunity to examine her apartment.

It was quite small, with a single living space and dining area off the galley-style kitchen. There were three doors down the hall, one of which she had disappeared into, calling out that she has some old clothes that may fit him.

The space was different than what Sivok had expected. The walls were completely white, with no color or any decorations on them. However, the ceiling was painted neon blue with splatters of other colors.

The floor was also a white tile, with practically no furniture except for a couch in the middle of the room and two huge tables on the opposite walls, one covered in PADDs and the other covered in strange looking plants facing the huge bay window.

Was this how humans decorated their homes?

It was nothing like the pre-furnished apartment he had rented when the embassy informed him it only housed staff members, visiting dignitaries, and their families.

She came back and out with an armload of linens to catch him staring at the ceiling, and laughed as she plopped the pile onto the marshmallow couch.

"Painting the ceiling was popular in the 2170s; I've always liked it. Humans typically leave it white, but I wanted to be different."

She moved towards him with the towel, but he went rim-rod straight at her approach, so she set it back down slowly and backed away.

He picked up the towel and the men's workout clothing from the chair. "You are always different."

"Thanks," she said with a slight smile.

"It was not a compliment."

She sighed. "Yeah, I figured."

He looked down at the clothing, struggling to neutralize the tightening feeling in his chest. "To whom do these belong?"

She raised an eyebrow at his tone. "My brother. The bathroom is the second door on the left. Make yourself at home."

"Unnecessary as I do not intend on-" he began to retort, but saw the look on her face and remembered her still-active threat to request a transfer and strand him with an incapable human.

"I...appreciate...your...hospitality," he mumbled as he passed her down the hall, not seeing the smile spread across her face.

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The loud hum of the rain prevented Sivok from clearly hearing her movements as he changed into the slightly too-small clothing. He could smell something and hoped it was not more of her repulsive human food.

After drying off, he had been faced with a dilemma. Stay in his Vulcan suit, which was not meant to get wet and would become extremely stiff as it dried until it was run through a sonic cycle, or change into used human clothing.

As he listened to the rain intensify, he gave up and took the warm, dry option. He decided her brother must be about his height but slightly less muscular, as the clothing fit exactly and clung tightly to his body.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he observed she had piled the PADDs from the left half of the table onto the right side into a structurally unsound stack, with a pitcher of tea and two glasses sitting in the newly cleared area.

He curled his nose up slightly at the dark liquid. It was iced tea. Fitting - cold and unpleasant tea on a cold and unpleasant planet.

He turned towards her as she emerged from one of other other doors, and they both froze: time seemed to stand still.

She was wearing loose-fitting pants that came down to her knees, leaving the rest of her legs and feet bare, with a high-cut top that exposed her arms and shoulders. She had also wrapped her wet hair into a towel that was somehow secured into its position on her head, exposing her entire neck.

He noticed her eyes slide down him in the human, tight clothing and then back up to his face, but she expressed no easily discernable emotion. Nothing at all, in fact, which brought him to the sudden realization that she was currently in better control of her emotions than he was, or at least seemed to be.

That snapped him back to reality and he tore his eyes from her, commenting on the first thing that caught his attention. "Whataretheplants?"

Her eyebrows scrunched down. "Come again?"

He breathed in deeply. "What are the plants?"

"Oh," she walked over towards the table near the window being beaten by the storm outside. "They're carnivorous. Tropical varieties, that's why I keep it so warm in here."

Sivok checked his internal temperature gauge, and noticed for the first time it was quite warm in here, though far too humid for his taste. He rationalized he hadn't noticed when he came in because he was wet.

"You have many hobbies. Marathoning, archeology, botany…"

She huffed. "I'm a loner. Loners fill their time with hobbies and work - it's natural."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'd show you how they're fed, but everyone is full right now." She said as she smiled towards the ominous looking plants.

"I do not wish to see your barbaric vegetation consume its prey."

She frowned. "Do you have carnivorous plants on Vulcan?"

He shifted slightly. "Yes, but they are...larger."

She stared silently at her plant labeled 'Nepenthes albomarginata' with its long, prickly arms and frowned. "How much larger?"

He was silent, weighing his options mentally. "Significantly taller and wider. Their movement is also quite...dynamic."

He noticed her shiver slightly. "I'll keep my nice little Earth varieties."

"That would be wise. A Vulcan species would surely prove too intense for you."

She raised her eyebrows, and he suddenly yearned to change the subject.

"Do you want some tea?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I do not wish to consume offensive human beverages."

She scowled. "See? That's exactly the kind of comment I'm talking about!"

He turned his head, surprised by her sudden outburst. The detached and expressionless woman had suddenly transformed into an emotional human.

"I've been tolerant of your behavior, perhaps too tolerant. I know what it's like to be misunderstood, personally. And…" She winced and chewed on her lip, but continued on.

"My father used to travel and do research off planet. Half the time, the locals would accuse him of purposely doing everything wrong. He wasn't trying to, he just didn't understand their culture and by being unwilling to work with him, he never could!"

She slowly moved in close to him, and he was reminded of their first encounter in the bio warehouse, nearly a month ago. They were now at the same distance as their accidental telepathic encounter that had sprouted so much unrest in him, he leaned back into the table of plants and clasped his hands tighter behind his back.

"But you're not trying to get along, and it can't continue. People are really starting to hate you. I heard another Vulcan, who isn't anywhere near as rude, fending off questions about your behavior."

She stepped away and he breathed out in relief, moving away from the table to prevent being cornered again.

"You can't quote me on this, but Commander Jira is a jerk. But you're antagonizing him and it's not helping your manufacturing builds."

She sank down onto the couch. "So please, for all of our sakes, but mostly the success of your work here: try being nice. So the next time someone offers you iced tea that you don't want, say thank you but I must decline or at the very least, I do not drink iced beverages."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

She frowned, then sighed, seemingly giving up.

"Because emotional humans are easily offended and will actively sabotage your progress. Unless you want to be in San Francisco for five years instead of two, keep your comments on humanity to yourself."

He looked at her in shock. "You believe that my work will take longer than two years if I cannot build more rapport with humans?"

"I'm positive about it!"

He was silent for a minute, deep in thought, but then nodded.

"Very well. I will endeavour to do so."

She slumped. "Are you serious? That's all it took?"

"Yes. I trust your judgement on your own species."

He thought back to the museum, privately admitting he had been overconfident on his knowledge of this planet. Rather than showcase his abilities, he had encountered an ancient desert culture he knew practically nothing about, which had far more unsettling similarities to his own ancient history than he had revealed to Matteson.

His studies of this planet had apparently been not as complete as he had believed, and as he looked over at his companion, he resolved to increase them.

She stood up and moved back towards him, causing his breathing to catch again.

"Really? You trust my judgement?"

He nodded and she smiled in reply, and they both sat down in silence on the oddly positioned couch in the center of the room as the rain continued to beat down.

After Sivok's internal clock told him at had been 22.54 minutes, he looked over at Matteson. She was sitting silently at the far end of the couch with her feet folded up to her chest, studying the flesh-eating plants on the table.

He was surprised to notice her toenails were a deep orange hue and leaned in closer to examined them.

"Your nails appear to be infected with an unknown disease. My knowledge of human pathology in-"

"Stop, Sivok. It's intentional."

He turned his head and looked quickly between her feet and her eyes. "You intentionally contracted the condition?"

She moaned. "No, it's intentionally painted that way."

"Oh." He leaned back into his side of the couch, scotting as far away as he could without falling to the floor.

She snorted. "No further insults?"

He was silent.

"Slight improvement," she murmured, and they both went back to sitting awkwardly for another 31.22 minutes. The violent rain continued on.

"Lieutenant?"

She chuckled, though Sivok didn't understand why. "Yes, doctor?"

"You said some humans would sabotage my progress if they perceived my interactions to be offensive by your standards."

"Yeah, some. But not most, and those who do might not necessarily be aware of it."

"For example?"

"Well, they could wait to reply to your messages as they don't want to read them, or not invite you to conferences because they think you'll be rude. It can be unintentional sabotage."

"Would you ever do that?"

She grinned and turned towards him on the couch. "Of course not. I told you, you're really annoying. But you don't bother me that much, and I'm still trying to be tolerant of our cultural differences."

He nodded absentmindedly and stared at his hands.

She smirked and shifted around, causing him to look up and raise an eyebrow. "And when you're not acting like a total arse, you're kind of cute in your own weird way."

His eyebrows shot up and his head turned towards her in shock, but he didn't tense up like normal. "I am sure you are alone in such a thought."

She shrugged. "I've always been the weird one."

He peered up at the neon blue ceiling, with the pink splatter now glowing in the darkening room. How had she gotten such a design up there?

"Yes, you are… different." He repeated his phrase from earlier.

"Thank you."

He nodded, this time not denying the compliment.

They looked back towards the red Nepenthes ampullaria, and Sivok sat in the now comfortable silence, enveloped by the warmth of the room and the consistent sound the rain.

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Sivok jolted awake, his internal clock supplying the time automatically.

0442.

With horror spreading throughout him from the depths of his mind, he slowly turned his head towards the space Matteson had once occupied.

Relief. She wasn't there, but a folded blanket and pillow was.

Sivok lightly shook his head and tried to center his thoughts. He had now gone from almost sharing the same dish with her to almost sharing the same bed with her.

Couch, technically, but the issue remained.

Why had he agreed to go to the museum in the first place?

Then he recalled he hadn't agreed. She said she would 'pick him up', and then she showed up at his lab and he… went. In the same way he responded to her request to meet in her in that storage cell, though that meeting admittedly had increased the efficiency of the cooling cycle better than expected.

Looking back at his behavior, a clear pattern emerged. Whatever she wanted, he did with minimal resistance. Why? This was a problem only deep introspective meditation could alleviate.

He pulled himself up and looked around. The lights were off, the blinds shut, the pitcher of tea and glasses were gone, and his clothing was hanging on a chair near the table still covered in PADDs.

He stood up and walked towards it, running his hand over the fabric. No stiffness - they had been run through a sonic cycle. How did she accomplish these things without waking him up?

He checked his internal balance. He hadn't been drugged. Apparently, he had been extremely tired to sleep for so long and so deeply, sitting up in a human woman's apartment in a gigantic downpour, which thankfully had subsided overnight.

He focused his keen hearing on her breathing, which was alternating consistently in and out. She was still asleep. Good.

No matter what she attempted to claim, humans needed copious amounts of rest and failing to do so would result in her becoming ill. And then he would need a new logistics director, which would be completely unacceptable.

Sivok changed silently, stacking her brother's clothing onto the couch. He put on his shoes and went to unlock the door, but was stopped by Matteson's voice.

"Sivok?"

He didn't look towards her, terrified of what she might be wearing to sleep in.

"It is early. Go back to bed."

She snorted. "For another five minutes? I get up at 0500."

He continued to look at the door, still not willing to risk turning around.

"I should leave."

"Come get some breakfast. Or don't. But I have Vulcan tea."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"It was a gift." He heard her shuffle towards the kitchen with some kind of fabric dragging behind her.

"From who?" He barked out.

She chuckled. "A friend. Now do you want some or not? I know it's hard to find."

He found himself drawing up at her friend giving her Vulcan tea, and was about to simply leave with no further comment.

But then he heard the tin pop open, and his sensitive nose picked up the scent of the familiar aroma. Not just Vulcan tea, but a type manufactured in his home region.

The kind he was slowly depleting his stock of.

Resigning himself to an evening of intensive meditation, he sighed and turned around, knowing she was safely out of sight in the kitchen and went over to the plants.

"It'll be ready in a minute. It has to steep."

"I know how Vulcan tea is prepared."

"Just reminding you." She called out in a 'sing-song' voice as she wandered back down the hall with the loud dragging sound following. He turned just in time to see a train of quilted fabric creating a wake behind her.

Was she wearing her blanket? Humans were baffling creatures, but at least she had covered herself more thoroughly before coming out.

After 5.9 minutes he knew the tea was ready. The sound of a sonic shower had activated and then deactivated 70 seconds later while he had flipped through the literature on her bizarre choices in vegetation, but she had still not emerged.

Another 3.2 minutes passed, and he gave up and went into the kitchen to prepare the tea. As he opened the drawers and cupboards looking for the required components, Sivok admitted the kitchen was well organized, at least in comparison to the mess of PADDs on the table.

Logical. She is a logistics and warehousing coordinator, trained in compartmental organization.

Finally she came out, thankfully wearing her uniform. He had seated himself at the half-covered, half-empty table with his cup of Vulcan tea, which was a blend of a higher grade than he anticipated.

Sivok watched with interest as she put the mug he had pulled down for her back into the cupboard, and pulled out a glass instead. She filled the glass with ice and poured a bit of the rare, exquisite tea over it, filling the rest with water.

With absolute terror, he watched her drink diluted iced Vulcan tea.

She winced and started to cough. "Wow, that is not good. Aw, man."

"It is supposed to be consumed hot."

"I don't like hot tea! Wow, this is bad!"

"Try it hot."

She went to argue, but relented. Pouring a bit into a mug and taking a sip.

"Oh, jeez, that's worse! Ah!"

He sighed as he watched, with some regret, her pour both cups down into the drain. She turned and pulled the Vulcan-style tin from the cupboard, then set it in front of him on the table.

"Here, keep it."

He looked up at her in surprise. "This is an expensive blend."

"Well, I think it's disgusting. You seem to like it," she pointed at his mostly empty mug. "It didn't smell good to me which is why I hadn't tried it yet. I've got to tell Lilly no more Vulcan tea."

"Lilly?"

"Yeah, we went to the Academy together. I send her chocolate, she sends me exotic teas from her postings and shore leaves."

Oh. Her friend was female, and was human. Not that he cared if she was friends with other Vulcan men, he assured himself. She could associate with whomever she wanted.

"But seriously, keep it. I'm sure you'll put it to better use." He thought back to her pouring it over ice and silently agreed.

"Thank you." He struggled to say the foreign words, and she laughed.

"You sound so… nevermind. You're welcome."

She smiled as he poured his mug full again, and they chatted about her recommendations for the primary heating cycle in the movable POD until 0600, before deciding to head into work.

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Pike stopped and leaned against the post, trying to catch his breath.

His internship started at 0700 and lasted until 1100 when his classes began and ran late into the evening. That meant morning was his only time to run.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and went back to a light jog down the damp sidewalk, approaching the corner to turn towards the bio warehouse.

This was an unusual path from the Academy quarters to his internship, but it passed Cecilia's apartment at the exact time she often jogged. He typically didn't catch her, but figured it was always worth a try.

Slowing his pace as he turned the corner, Pike froze in the middle of the sidewalk and felt his mouth fall open as Doctor Sivok walked out Cecilia's complex right behind her.

"Do you need to stop by your apartment this morning? Get a change of clothes?"

"Negative. I have everything I need in my lab."

"Good, let's go."

"I am curious as to how you ran the sonic cycle without waking me."

"Let me tell you, it wasn't easy."

Pike dove back around the corner and peeked out at them, pulling himself back when Sivok turned around, presumably at the sound of his movement.

Their voices faded as the pair moved away, towards the warehouse. What was Sivok of all people doing coming out of her apartment at 0700? Had that jerk stayed the night with Cecilia?

Were they sleeping together? Their conversation implied it!

He breathed in deeply, wondering what in the world he had just witnessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Well, hopefully Sivok is slightly less of a jerk from now on, even if his reasons aren't so pure. On a separate note, my search history now contains many questions on capturing and feeding live insects to carnivorous plants. Some of the "tutorials" are pretty creepy, I'm not going to make Sivok watch it. Freeze-dried it is!
> 
> And a huge thanks again to the amazing Tom Foolery for being so supportive and fixing my heinous typos. If you haven't read all of their fics, you should go do so!


	6. Chapter 6

The sealed g'var container weighed heavy in hand as he struggled to suppress his concern. Worry was illogical, but this was unusual. He looked around again.

For the past 22 days they had eaten lunch together. She had never missed a day, despite his many complaints and attempts to avoid her.

Additionally, she had never been late to lunch once their schedule had been formally defined, at his insistence of course. His internal clock told him she was now 19 minutes late.

He looked at his PADD for the twelfth time. No messages. What was causing her absence, and why hadn't she informed him of the reason for the delay?

He stood, still having not touched his food, and strode out of the secluded section and into the main area of the roof. The incessant chatter hushed as the Starfleet personnel noticed his unexpected presence.

Speaking while eating was impractical and improper, and despite his many attempts to educate them on this, they continued to do so.

However, he had recently been too distracted by Matteson's consistent presence to maintain his crusade. The chatter had now risen back to unacceptable levels, and he was tempted to say something, but remembered her warnings from the evening before.

Unless you want to be in San Francisco for five years instead of two, keep your comments on humanity to yourself.

He stayed silent and walked towards the lift, deciding to go look for her in her workspace. Perhaps she had forgotten their appointment, as humans were prone to do.

Despite her many positive attributes, she was still unfortunately human.

As he approached the door, to his surprise and relief, it opened to reveal a very displeased looking Matteson. She wasn't carrying her lunch as was customary, and she stomped out with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Sivok."

"You are late."

"Oh yeah? You're an enormous pain."

His eyebrows furrowed. He had just resisted correcting the obnoxious behavior of the Starfleet officers on the roof - what had he done now?

"I just got back from the museum you got us thrown out of yesterday. I went to apologize for your behavior, but it didn't go so well. The director was furious at the scene you caused, and I got chewed out by both the museum staff and the Vulcan liaison for the Federation historical society who was blaming me."

He tilted his head. "Who?"

"Savir or Sivir or whatever. Didn't get a clear picture of his name, he was too busy explaining how a VSA representative would never do such a thing and you were obviously trying to keep me in line."

"Anyhow, the Vulcan liaison made sure I'm not welcome back at any of the museums or educational exhibits in their network for 'disturbing the peace'. And since I paid, they have my information!" she threw her arms up for emphasis.

He looked at her carefully, and after a minute of silence, she only seemed to grow angrier.

"Well?" Matteson demanded.

He turned to see the other Starfleet officers watching their interaction with great interest, and they all quickly looked back towards their food and starting chattering again.

He lightly put his hand on her covered arm and started to lead her away from the still all-too-interested crowd, and she looked down at his hand in surprise.

"I will endeavour to correct their error."

She huffed, walking with him towards the secluded area.

"Fine. But don't say anything to Michael. He already quizzed me about our relationship, thinking we were dating."

She momentarily glanced down at his hand on her arm as she said dating, and he jerked it away, his mission to escape the curious eyes complete. They sat on their usual bench, but she scooted away from him.

"I corrected that folly, and he started hitting on me! I told him no thanks and he went back to insisting you and I are involved."

Sivok tensed and fought to keep his breathing steady. "He assaulted you?"

"What?"

"You said he was hitting you-"

"As in flirting."

Sivok blinked slowly, still confused.

"Attempting to get me to mate with him."

He understood, but didn't un-tense. "You will not do so, correct?"

She snorted. "What's it matter to you?"

He glared back somberly and didn't answer, and looked down to his now-cold food.

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Matteson examined her Vulcan colleague, who had now taken to studying his food, as if food could be so interesting. She had forgotten to pick her lunch up in her hurry to remind Sivok just how much of a jerk he had been.

Unbelievable. She liked going to the museums, and did it frequently! And now attempting to extend an olive branch to this grouchy Vulcan had cost her one of her hobbies.

And what was with his obsession with her love life? He was always snapping at Pike, questioning her brother's clothes, the source of her tea, anyone who stopped by the lab who happened to be male - and now this.

Whatever. He had promised last night to try and do better and even thanked her for the tea this morning. She had to give him a chance, right?

It's not as though Jira would approve her request to transfer anyway, but Sivok didn't know Jira had to approve it. To get away, she would need to leave the warehouse all together, and she wasn't about to let Sivok take her life away, not after she had finally re-stabilized herself.

Matteson pushed those thoughts from her mind and stood up.

"I'm going to go grab my lunch; I'll be right back."

He nodded without looking up.

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"No."

"Yes! Think about the possibilities if we-"

"No."

"Come on, Sivok! Be reasonable. Migrating from a spherical POD to one of the cube models would be a huge space saver; we have to at least consider it."

He set his fork-like utensil back into his g'var.

"Unacceptable. This is medical technology, and it needs to be accessible by all types of facilities. In the Starfleet warehousing, you have all of the necessary equipment to move large fixtures, but on a distant outpost they have minimal options."

"I know but-"

He continued to speak over her. "The entire purpose of the Vulcan-model spherical PODs is that it can be rolled by two humanoids of reasonable strength, and larger equipment is not required. Moving to a cube model defeats this."

"But Sivok, I'm not saying to abandon the current PODs. Just if we use the cube model on Starships that do have the necessary technology to move them, we can pack a lot more in the limited space."

"And double the required routing procedures for two different models."

"Which is my job to handle, and not your problem."

He shook his head. "Anything that interferes with the deployment of the compound is, as you put it, my problem. We will use a single POD, and it will be the Vulcan-designed spherical model."

She groaned. "But that doesn't-"

"My decision is final. I understand you are attempting to save space, as you are trained to do, but the practicality of deep space usage prevents it."

"Again, I know we need the spherical PODs. I'm saying to use both."

"They use different nodes. The odds of the wrong nodes being ordered or sent are too high, and the compound will decay by the time the mistake is corrected."

She drew up. "I'm not going to send the wrong nodes. And this is not your decision to make. This is my call."

"It is my project. The PODs will be spherical."

"Well, we should at least try it. I think once you see the forecasts you'll reconsider."

"I am capable of forecasting internally. I see the substantial increase in capacity, but I do not believe the increased risk of error is worth the risk."

She breathed in sharply. "You're talking about my ability to do my job correctly."

He picked his food back up, considering his options.

While there was a chance she would make a mistake, he was confident in her ability. However, there was a much higher probability a different human would make a serious error, but was unsure how to tell her this.

Simply stating that humans were prone to numerous errors would likely cause issues as it had in the past, and he was attempting to avoid creating problems with the one human he could fully tolerate, who had threatened to transfer away less than 24 hours ago.

He decided to play it safe.

"I am saying we should be prudent to reduce the risk of error."

She huffed, but went back to eating. They spent the rest of their meal rotating between arguing over the issue and her sitting in angry silence.

But Sivok wasn't concerned. Surely she would see his logic and relent on the issue.

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The next day

Pike looked up from the monitor at the chime, and quickly looked back down as he saw who was approaching. The last person he wanted to see. He steadied himself and put on a tight smile.

"Doctor Sivok, can I help you with anything?"

The obnoxious Vulcan stared at him, and frankly looked as unhappy as Pike was to be talking to him. Why couldn't this guy just act normally? Sure, the Vulcans were all a bit odd, but most were reasonable people.

But not this doctor. Who was apparently sleeping with Cecilia, who just two days ago he thought he had a shot with.

Pike clenched his jaw through his smile - maybe he had misinterpreted. The Vulcan could have been there for some other reason, though he couldn't think of one.

"I need to file a request with Commander Bines."

Pike reached down into the drawer to pull out the right data chip. "Sure, what for?"

Sivok shifted and looked around, and Pike raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior.

"I need to request a cancellation of one of Lieutenant Matteson's orders."

Pike leaned forward. What? Sivok wanted to go over her head?

He had to keep himself from snickering. Matteson was different in so many ways, but she was still a human woman. And if they were seeing each other, circumventing her was not going to go over well.

Pike smiled and opened up the necessary paperwork on the monitor. "Why?"

Sivok dropped his voice. "We have come to a disagreement that I have not been able to mediate. It is important the POD configurations remain the same, and her orders to acquire 2,000 cube units are a waste of resources necessary elsewhere."

Pike had to keep himself from grinning. How the mighty had fallen! The Vulcan jerk had gone from demanding a replacement for her, to whispering his request in a futile attempt for this incident not to blow up spectacularly.

He had heard gossip they were arguing loudly on the roof yesterday, and now Sivok was going over her head. Once she found out, whatever relationship the doctor had been enjoying with Cecilia would be history.

Pike tapped at the monitor. "So replace those with…"

"Vulcan spherical units. LK-22994 in the Federation database."

"Alrighty, all set. Anything else?"

Sivok leaned forward. "According to Starfleet regulation 2439.83, this conversation will be kept confidential."

"Of course, your secrets are safe with me," Pike winked and grinned as Sivok eyed him suspiciously, but the Vulcan nodded and strode out of the room and into the lift.

"But then again," Pike said to the now empty space, "according to Starfleet regulation 391.24, as a cadet, I must surrender any documentation that is requested by a ranking officer in the division that is within my classification tier."

Now he just had to get her to ask for it. He didn't feel too bad about it, as she had a right to know her whatever was circumventing her and undermining her job.

That shouldn't be hard to do.

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"I've almost got it."

"If you would allow me to-"

"Done!"

Sivok turned his head in surprise. Matteson had completed the coupling exchange much faster than he had anticipated possible for anyone, even himself. "Let me see."

She moved out of the way and he leaned down to the POD, pulling out the node and setting it to auto-rotate. The anti-grav chamber within the unit kept the sample in a perfectly level, precisely controlled state.

It was operating properly, and had passed a level one diagnostic. How had she accomplished such a feat in 5.21 minutes?

He glanced towards the PADD she had hooked to the node. "Have you already determined the correct signaling key?"

She smiled and nodded. "It was no easy task! I manually cross-referenced about 100 full databases of different access keys, but finally got the ratios right a few days ago."

He tilted his head. "When? There has been no such project on the monitors in your workspace."

"I did it at home."

He thought back to the jumble of PADDs on her kitchen table, now realizing their significance. That was very difficult work to be done without access to the main computer: it was tedious even with it.

He straightened himself. "In that case, we are ahead of schedule. Tilk will finish the final modifications before the presentation."

"Great! Now let's talk about that new cooling gel I was showing you."

She picked up the PADD and flicked through the files, but then paused and frowned as her eyes scanned the screen.

As she continued to read, her frown deepened into a scowl, and she started breathing heavily.

Sivok tried to shake the feeling something bad was about to happen, and right as he went to inquire about her well being, she dropped her arm to her side and met his eyes.

While his ability to read human emotions was still sometimes lacking, he could easily tell she was furious. "How could you!"

She spun away from him and crossed her arms, and then quickly moved to leave the room. Sivok barely stopped himself from sighing as he went to follow her.

He had just committed to avoiding issues with Matteson, and since then he had faced her ire more frequently than the previous month combined.

"Is there a problem?"

"You went over my head!" She called behind her as she briskly moved down the hallway, and he was reminded of their near-sprint down the sidewalk two nights ago.

"I do not understand your slang. Please elucidate."

She reached the lift and he quickly ducked in behind her, relieved to be alone and not in the halls where anyone could hear.

She continued to look forward and not meet his eyes, still breathing deeply with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You got my orders canceled. After I explained that it was my decision. I got a message from Cadet Pike earlier, he said something vague about the shipping schedules changing and I asked him what he meant. He just sent your request."

Oh. Sivok struggled to suppress the sudden burst of anger that spread across his chest. How dare that child disobey Starfleet regulations and interfere in his work!

She hadn't needed to know yet, by the time the units arrived he would have persuaded her the spheres were the logical solution.

Not only was Sivok furious with Cadet Pike, but also Commander Bines, who was never in the main office and left interns to do all of the work. If he was able to interface with the real commander and didn't have to work with the cadet, then she wouldn't be angry with him again and they would still be...

Still be what? Colleagues with an efficient working relationship, Sivok assured himself.

Sivok watched in vain as she stormed out of the lift and into her workspace, sealing and locking the door behind her.

He clamped his eyes shut and tried to reign in his swirling emotions.

Now what?

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Sivok leaned against the wall, looking out the window at an angle as Matteson walked into the complex.

For the past five days, on every instance he attempted to speak to her she left abruptly without engaging him, or answered his technical questions and nothing else.

She had been sending progress reports to his PADD as normal, but without her usual commentary. She did not attend their lunches, and kept her workspace door locked.

As she disappeared into the complex, he stepped away from the window. Watching her come and go had become part of his day during his time on this planet, and was the only part of their routine he had left.

The only relief of the situation was that Sivok had spotted the infernal Cadet Pike also attempting to gain access to her newly closed off workspace, but had been denied as well. It served him right.

He turned his head at the ruffling behind him. His human lab tech was leaning over Tilk, whispering something into his ear, as always. He had never heard her speak aloud, and she had still not said a word to him, communicating only through her co-worker.

Sivok suppressed the tightening in his chest at the sight.

How had the young Vulcan managed to develop such a close working relationship with Miss Chambal? They never seemed to argue, and she often laughed at his comments. Tilk was logical and accomplished for his age: what did he say that was so amusing?

He thought back to Matteson. How had everything gone so wrong? She had made it clear he needed to modulate his behavior in respect to the emotional immaturity and sensitivity of the local population, something he had attempted to do and was still doing.

Regret was illogical, but Sivok couldn't help but think if he had simply told her that he was not confident in any other human's capacity, but was in hers, this rift would have not occurred.

Attempting to suppress his feelings over the matter had been a difficult process. He assured himself that the disruption in his newly established routine was causing the problem.

Yes, the routine was what he wanted back, not Matteson herself. She was just a human, and he didn't need to interact with her.

She had probably already requested a transfer to whoever her commanding officer was, likely the ever-absent Bines. And then he would be trapped with someone else, who would inevitably be incapable and unacceptable in comparison.

Sivok had spoken to the Federation historical society and gotten her museum ban lifted. He had also attempted to alleviate her various concerns with the gel packs, signing off on her recommendations without question.

But most of all, he had waited patiently on the roof everyday, hoping she would see his efforts and join him for lunch as normal. She never came.

The chime on the electronic pot sounded, and he picked up his freshly steeped mug of Vulcan tea, from the blend Matteson had given him.

What else could he do? Sivok sat down and went back to work and tried to ignore the whispers of the two young technicians across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Sivok tried to be less of a jerk, but it backfired. The next chapter will provide a resolution, and we're getting close to the point where they develop a real working friendship. Matteson is more emotional than I wanted her to be in this chapter, but I think anyone would fed up with Sivok at this point.
> 
> Extra thanks to TomFoolery for their amazing beta skills and for making my ugly drafts flow much better. If you like Sarek/Amanda and you haven't read their work, you should go do so! Some parts of that series of snuck into my head as canon.


	7. Chapter 7

Bzeeep

Bzeeep

Matteson rolled her eyes. Since when did she have so many visitors? Couldn't they all just leave her alone, at least for awhile?

The entire incident with Sivok had reminded her why she was a loner. People of any species just weren't worth the effort they required. She had better things to do, like breeding her plants and doing her work.

Bzeeep

She groaned and tapped the button on her desk. "Lieutenant Matteson."

"Uh, excuse me sir, uh ma'am, um…"

She sighed lightly and moved towards the door, which opened to reveal Sivok's human lab tech.

"Can I help you, Miss Chambal?"

The petite woman looked up from her feet and swallowed hard. She seemed very shy and unsure, and Matteson couldn't imagine her working with two Vulcans all day, one of whom was as aggressive and grotesque as Sivok.

The young technician stuck out a PADD, and as soon as Matteson reached out and grabbed it, the young woman bolted away without another word.

Matteson looked down at the PADD, and rubbed her temples as she read the memo.

Official briefing with the Vulcan Science Academy

She had been formally invited by Sivok's superiors to his presentation over subspace on the progress of the deployment of his compound into the fleet.

As an 'official' member of the team, this would normally be good news and she would be excited to prepare the presentation with him and the others.

But not anymore.

He had gone too far, way too far. He had no right to interfere in her work in such a way, and requesting Bines to override her orders was gross interference.

Sivok had followed her around the last ten days making vague 'logical' excuses and doing her 'favors'; finishing paperwork she would normally be left to complete and pushing through her recommendations without argument.

He had gotten her museum ban lifted, and two days ago, he had even sent her a pitcher of exotic iced tea through the cafeteria, the same beverage he had once called offensive and disgusting.

For a few hours she had considered forgiving him and letting everything return back to normal as he kept lobbying for.

But then she encountered another Vulcan, the same one who she'd overheard defending his species against attacks instigated by Sivok before their fallout.

She had been wrestling with some containers in the lower docking bays, and the Vulcan stopped, helped her put them in place, nodded, and went on his way.

No insults, no comments on her weak human body being incapable of handling the crates. He simply helped her and left, saying it was logical to help someone in need and she need not thank logic.

It all served to remind her the true problem with Sivok, and why his excuses didn't cut it. This wasn't about his culture, this wasn't her applying human standards to an alien: he was the problem.

She had tolerated a month's worth of insults and verbal abuse. He had gone after her personally, her species, her planet, Starfleet, and virtually everyone she worked with, and she had put up with it.

Now she wasn't so sure that had been the right decision, but was confident that allowing it to continue wasn't acceptable.

She thought back to him slumped over on her couch, sleeping soundly to the sound of the rain. He had looked so calm and relaxed, handsome and even innocent in his sleep.

But then the next day came and she was reminded again of the fiasco at the museum? And then going over her head to change her orders? It was too much.

Matteson had committed to working with him to the best of her ability, but they couldn't be anything more than coworkers.

By more she meant casual friends, she assured herself. There was never the possibility of anything more than that - no matter what that archeologist insisted.

She huffed. What an idiot.

Of course she wasn't dating her Vulcan colleague!

She looked back at the invitation on the PADD, deciding she would attend the presentation as expected, but nothing more than that.

They were done for good.

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Sivok averted his eyes as Matteson walked through his lab's door for the first time in two weeks. She was wearing her dress uniform, and it fit tightly around her torso.

He re-checked the interface cables to the subspace transmitter, knowing the action was illogical as he had just checked it seconds before.

He suppressed a scowl: his frustration hadn't been fully suppressed in meditation. She had not been transferred yet, but it could only be days before she would replaced by some useless, incompetent human.

He struggled to suppress his annoyance at the thought, denying to himself it had anything to do with losing Matteson in particular.

No, it was just her efficiency he was after. Logically.

He knew he had to center himself before the presentation with his superior. The rest did not know it, but the sole audience member was the head of the Vulcan Science Academy, T'Lar.

He calmed his breathing as Matteson walked in his direction, but she said nothing; she only sat down and straightened her dress uniform.

He shrugged his formal robes on over his Vulcan-style suit and tied the clasp, looking up at her briefly as Tilk walked over to stand behind him.

The VSA logo appeared on the monitor, and T'Lar's wizened face appeared on the screen.

"T'Sai. I come to serve."

"Your services honors us." She gave the formal reply as her dark eyes scanned the room, hovering over the three humans - Matteson, Chambal, and Jira - for a split second longer.

Sivok went straight into the presentation, showing the progress made on the modifications to Starfleet's adaptable manufacturing technology.

Jira explained parts of the process, and T'Lar said nothing in reply, much to the insufferable Commander's annoyance.

When Sivok began explaining the PODs - which were spherical, of course - Matteson stood but said nothing as he talked. He had to force himself to not look over at her during the process, wondering what her reaction was.

"Both cooling cycles take 1.1 seconds to enter their secondary phase-"

The elderly Vulcan woman held up her hand, and he paused.

"The documentation states 1.4 consistently."

He nodded. "We have been able to reduce the cycle."

She tilted her head ever so slightly, an indication of confusion for their kind.

"An experimental LHDS coupling was installed and modulated into the current system. The transference speed between the timing gauge and the electronic eye was increased, which created the increase in efficiency."

T'Lar said nothing as she looked back down her documentation, but then suddenly nodded and looked up.

"An excellent example of Vulcan efficiency in engineering. You will be commended for the improvements of the standard spherical POD when you return."

Sivok stilled, and looked at Matteson, who was staring straight forward with no expression on her face, but he could see her hands clenched by her side.

He made a split second decision.

"T'Sai, such commendations are owed to the improvement's creator, Lieutenant Matteson."

He nodded towards Matteson, and she looked up in surprise.

"The lieutenant both located and adapted the LHDS coupling to the POD, and manually aligned the signaling codes, without access to the main computer."

T'Lar tilted her head again. "Why would the main computer not be used?"

"She had other work that required main computer access, and completed the project at her home. Lieutenant Matteson has great dedication to her work and a wide range of abilities."

T'Lar narrowed her eyes slightly. "Admirable for a human."

Sivok met Matteson's eyes for the first time in days, and then it hit him: this was his chance. "Admirable for anyone, Vulcan or human."

He heard Matteson's breathing catch ever so slightly, but T'Lar didn't react.

"Continue."

Sivok went back to the presentation and within an hour the demo was completed.

"You will continue to send progress reports."

Sivok nodded in agreement.

She continued. "When manufacturing begins, Sorvak will perform an external audit."

Sorvak.

Sivok nodded again and breathed in deeply, ensuring his expression stayed neutral. Matteson peered at him and looked momentarily confused, but then turned back to the screen.

Could she read him that well? The pain of her inevitable departure stung him anew.

But then again, if she had learned his mannerisms to such detail, perhaps it was better that way. He tried to squelch the feeling in his gut at that thought.

T'Lar raised the ta'al. "Live long and prosper."

He returned the gesture. "Peace and long life."

And then she ended the transmission without recognizing the Starfleet officers, which Jira immediately began to complain about before turning on Matteson.

"I want you to stay focused on this. No going off on another side project."

"Sir-"

"Her work was of great benefit to this project, as Administrator T'Lar said."

They both turned towards Sivok, surprised by him coming to her defense once again. Jira scowled but had no further comment.

Sivok's mind was whirling. Stay focused? Did that mean her request to transfer had been denied? Why would Bines do such a thing?

Jira sighed. "Whatever. I'm glad you two are getting along."

If only he knew, Sivok thought grimly.

Jira eyed the pair suspiciously then strutted out of the room, leaving them alone as Chambal and Tilk rolled the POD back to the main area of the lab.

For a moment, neither said anything, choosing to stare at one another instead. He watched her eyes slide down to the markings on his formal robes.

"They indicate my house and clan."

She nodded, still not speaking. They stood silent for a moment longer, and she turned and walked towards the exit.

Sivok felt disappointment rip through him, and he closed his eyes to suppress the reaction.

She was human. It didn't matter. It seemed she would continue to be his logistics rep, and that was sufficient.

Or was it?

"I'll see you at lunch tomorrow." He looked up in shock, and was rewarded with her smile and laughter at his reaction.

He nodded and watched her leave, feeling more centered than he had in two weeks.

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Matteson paused as she approached the secluded area, thinking back to the first time she ambushed him on this roof. It had only been a month, but it felt like a lot longer.

She turned the corner to find Sivok already sitting there, his food untouched as always until she arrived.

She sat down opposite him, and he seemed surprised.

"I thought this was the best view?"

She smiled and switched sides. "You're right, it is."

They both opened their respective lunches and began eating.

"You're still on probation, you know."

He tilted his head. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we're not back to normal."

He looked slightly deflated, so she quickly clarified.

"Until I make up my mind."

He nodded and went back to his meal.

Matteson examined her companion anew. He was on probation, but after correcting the head of the Vulcan Science Academy to praise her and her father's work, she figured he deserved the chance.

Admirable for anyone, Vulcan or human.

That was a big improvement, the biggest of their interactions so far. But if he went back to human bashing, that was the end of it.

But her presence was also caused by being very curious about the upcoming audit.

When the elderly woman had mentioned some Vulcan's name, he had tensed slightly and pulled his arms behind his back in the same way he did when she cornered him on something.

She had come to interpret the action to mean he was very uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but wonder what about the audit made him so nervous.

"What do you think about the audit?"

He froze, and then finished chewing very slowly. Suspicions confirmed.

"I am confident we will pass without difficulty."

"Hmmm," she nodded and finished her bite. "Do you know the guy who is doing it? What was his name?"

"Sorvak." He was silent, evidently considering his words carefully. "Yes, he was my thesis advisor."

Oh. Matteson realized she had no idea what his degree was even in.

"What was your thesis on?"

"Emergency medical replication in remote areas of deep space and refugee camps."

Her eyebrows scrunched down, confused. "I thought you were a biologist? Or a doctor? Or something like that?"

"I am."

"But medical replication is a different focus, right?"

"Yes."

She turned her head, now very confused. "So which one are you?"

"All of the above."

"Uh, how long did you go to school?!"

"I have been pursuing ongoing education and working in the research departments of the Vulcan Science Academy for over 60 years."

"What? How old are you?!"

He raised an eyebrow in reply and went back to eating.

Maybe he had been a child prodigy.

Then suddenly the realization of his thesis struck her. Emergency deep space and refugee medical replication? Did that mean…

"Sivok?"

He tilted his head and finished his bite. "Yes?"

"Did you spend any time on deep space assignments?"

He nodded. "It was vital for my research. This is why I developed the compound, and where I discovered the samples the PODs are currently holding."

"Did you ever have necessary medical supplies be incorrectly sent? Something that couldn't be replicated because of it?"

He paused, and then nodded cautiously. "Yes."

"Did anything happen as a result?

He was silent for a long while. "Nine people died. Needlessly."

She took a sharp breath, realizing the implication.

"Why didn't you just tell me you'd seen a logistics error have such a drastic outcome? Instead of going over my head? If I had known you felt that way-"

He stiffened. "My emotions had nothing to do with it. I gave sufficient logical reason to continue with the spherical PODs. "

She sighed, everything becoming clear.

"Sivok, you have to be straightforward about your motivations. Tell me exactly why you got my orders canceled. Did this event have anything to do with it?"

He considered her for a moment, almost looking nervous, but it passed and his usual demeanor returned.

"No, though it was an educational experience. Any trauma I experienced was suppressed in meditation. I have attempted to be direct in the past, but you informed me I needed to temper my statements or risk prolonging the project."

She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. "So in other words, you're sensitive about medical shipment errors, and you don't trust humans not to create them."

"I am not sensitive, but I am concerned about shipment errors made by humans other than you. I did not inform you as I was attempting to, as you put it, keep my comments on humanity to myself. "

She chuckled. "And look where it got us."

"So, I should not continue to-"

"Oh no. Please continue to hold your tongue. It's mandatory for your probation."

He looked confused, but agreed anyhow.

"So you and your old advisor, you don't get along?"

He snapped the lid back on his meal and set it aside.

"We are Vulcans."

She snorted. "Yeah, I know that. So do you get along or not?"

He tilted his head. "We are Vulcans. We always work out our differences logically and without emotional interference."

"Right." She rolled her eyes and leaned back, trying to think of alternate phrasing.

"Does it often take longer than normal to work out differences logically? Do you have differences with greater frequency than with others?"

He shifted, but then relented. "Yes, to both."

"Why?"

"He was… condescending."

Matteson's mouth fell open, and she stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Are you serious? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!" she cackled.

He looked around uncomfortably. She steadied herself as she laughed by putting her arm on his shoulder, but then pulled it away as she realized what she had done.

To her surprise, he didn't tense or shift around.

"Sorry, I just... so in other words: he treated you like you treat others."

Now he stiffened. "I would never do such a thing."

"Uh-uh! You sure do! It's the oldest trap in the book. The very behavior we hate having done to us we often do to others."

"Vulcans have no such psychological phenomena."

"It sure looks like you do. You said tradition is binding, or you face exile, right?"

He huffed lightly, and she could tell he didn't like where the conversation was going.

"Well, isn't that sort of enforcement of tradition exactly that? Requiring others to do something because you were required to do it?"

He went to argue, but she stopped him. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing, or that those traditions aren't important to the safety of your people. Just that the perpetuation of past treatment can be a motivating factor."

He drew up, but said nothing.

Thought so.

"So, how Sorvak treated you when he was in a position of power, you're now treating those under you."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he continued to look down without speaking.

"Just think about it, okay?" She stood up and patted him on the shoulder experimentally, and he didn't move.

Weird.

"Well, I'm going to get back to work. It's good to have lunch again. I've missed you."

He nodded and looked up at her, and she thought back again to their time at her apartment. He had looked so helpless when he was wet, and she laughed in her head as she realized she wouldn't mind seeing him again like that.

Maybe if he made if off probation...

She smiled to herself as she entered the lift. Who was she kidding?

The dirty rat had already worked his way back into her life.

She could only hope he was serious about keeping it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're finally done with angsty arguments, and we get to deal with evil superiors and summer fun in the chapters to come, including a baseball game, an aquarium, and...whatever else I dream up.
> 
> As always, I owe a huge thank you to TomFoolery for beta-ing these chapters. They wrote a story called Spock's First Week awhile back, and it's the only Spock-centric fic I've ever read all the way and enjoyed. If you haven't read it, you should go check it out! Very well done.


	8. Chapter 8

_Three months later ___

Sivok switched off the PADD and stood, his internal clock telling him it was 2200 hours.

As Matteson had reminded him so many times, Vulcans were extremely sturdy but still did require food and sleep, not to mention the meditation necessary to suppress his emotions. And for the last month, Sivok hadn't gotten enough of any of the three.

The audit with his old mentor and advisor was supposed to occur at six Earth months, when the first experimental phase of manufacturing began.

But Sorvak had insisted to move up the audit by a full Earth month and a half, and had been unwilling to cite his reasons.

Sivok had assured Matteson that he could always work out his differences with Sorvak logically. Three infuriating subspace calls and a dozen cryptic messages later, he wasn't so sure.

Sivok closed his eyes and centered himself, leaning against his desk and stretching his back. The realities of finishing a 19-hour work day were wearing on his body.

Despite their many problems when he was completing his degree all those years ago, Sorvak was a highly respected, ranking member of the Federation Science Directorate. His prestige predated the Federation, and he had been a notable figure in the pre-Federation Vulcan Science Directorate as well.

Surely there was a logical reason for his old advisor's evasiveness and destructive re-arranging of his two-year plan for the project, even if the elderly Vulcan refused to disclose it.

"Osu? Are you alright?"

Sivok straightened quickly and spun around.

"Tilk. I thought you retired to your home for the evening."

Tilk paused. "I did, Osu. I returned for this." He reluctantly held up a PADD, which Sivok immediately recognized.

"Does that not belong to Miss Chambal?"

The corners of the much younger Vulcan's ears turned bright green.

"It does. She and I were eating dinner off campus. We were walking afterwards and she realized she had forgotten it. As Miss Chambal is awaiting an urgent message from a relative, she became distressed and I offered to retrieve it for her."

Sivok raised an eyebrow.

For the past three months, Matteson and Sivok had maintained an effective working relationship. They ate lunch together, worked in her lab in the afternoons, and parted amicably at the end of each day. There had been no major fiascos and she seemed more at ease around him.

But Sivok always had to repress a tingling in his chest when he watched his two lab assistants work throughout the day, whispering to each other for hours and leaning so close they almost touched.

Apparently, they spent time in each other's company even after work hours.

How had the young Vulcan managed to build such a deep connection with a human so shy and nervous? And why couldn't Sivok manage to maintain anywhere near that level of trust with Matteson, who was significantly more forthcoming?

The questions bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Surely his disciplines were sufficient to persuade one human to trust him and admire him in the way Chambal clearly did to Tilk.

But then again, why did he want such a connection with a human? Meditation had provided no concrete answers.

As the silence persisted, Tilk's discomfort seemed to grow. "Is there anything else you need, Osu?"

"No," Sivok paused. "Actually, yes. I have a personal question, one you may deign to not answer. But I am curious, how long have you been on Earth?"

Tilk titled his head. "Nine years, Osu."

Sivok suppressed his reaction of surprise. Nine years? How had he managed among these people for such a duration?

"Why?"

"I received my original degree at Shi'Kahr Academy."

"I am aware."

"I then continued my education at Stanford, in their off-world outreach program."

Sivok nodded, and they stared at each other for a long moment.

He sensed Tilk was aware there something else he wished to know, but Sivok wasn't going to press it. Vulcans deeply valued privacy. But to his surprise, Tilk offered up the information without additional persuasion.

"I met Miss Chambal while I was there. We were in the same class, and worked together on various academic projects, the first being seven years and five months ago."

Oh. Sivok felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.

It wasn't that Tilk and the young human woman naturally got along, they had known and worked closely with each other for years in different settings.

Perhaps if he and Matteson continued their current working relationship for another seven years, they would have the same level of trust.

Not that it mattered. Sivok was confident he would return to Vulcan in one year, seven months, thirteen days, and eight hours. And after a period of meditation, he would never think about this planet again.

"Osu, I do not wish to invade your privacy, but if you desire to develop a closer working relationship with…" Tilk paused and eyed his superior, "any human, I suggest inviting her to participate in various recreational activities."

Sivok clenched his jaw. Since when could be read so easily?

"For example," Tilk continued, blissfully unaware of his superior's shock, "while Miss Chambal and I were at Stanford, we were on a intramural baseball team together. We still play on the Starfleet team."

They do what? Sivok raised his eyebrows, perhaps his young colleague wasn't as logical as he seemed.

Sivok prepared to ask for Tilk's logic for participating in such human activities, but the PADD belonging to Miss Chambal began to signal.

Tilk looked down and said, "This may be the alert she is waiting for. May I go, Osu?"

Sivok nodded, and watched as the young man rushed out the door and broke into a sprint as he reached the sidewalk, seemingly in a great hurry to return the PADD to its owner.

As he gazed out the window into the starry San Francisco night, he could only hope being on this planet wouldn't affect him in such a way.

He shut the blinds with a snap, shrugging his over robe on as he walked out the door. Sorvak would arrive tomorrow, and Sivok knew his emotions must be deep under the surface if such an event had any chance of going well.

Serious meditation was in order.

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Matteson tried to look casual as Sivok strode onto the landing dock, back in his formal dress robes that looked like hand embroidered fine silk.

He really did look good in the full Vulcan getup.

He stood next to her, brushing against the shoulder of her dress uniform ever so slightly as he approached. This was something he had done many times in the last three months, which was extremely confusing considering how jumpy he used to be whenever she got near.

She looked up and examined his face. He seemed more...blank than normal, with absolutely no indication displayed on the nature of his thoughts.

But he didn't appear calm, not in the way she had learned to recognize over months of agonizing attention to the subtle clues of his emotional status.

He had been on his best behavior since their two weeks apart, and Matteson was really beginning to feel as if she had a friend in Sivok, even if he was still kind of a jerk.

"You okay?" she asked softly. Sivok had mentioned a few times before that he didn't always get along well with his old advisor, but had refused to give more information when she pressed.

He nodded swiftly and stepped in front of her, standing up as straight as he could as a small shuttle began to land onto the pad.

Three Vulcans emerged, two who were about Tilk's age and dressed in all black, plus the one elderly man in extremely ornate robes.

Sivok raised the ta'al. "I come to serve."

The old Vulcan looked Sivok over and then turned his head sharply, walking towards the building without a reply, his aides in tow.

Matteson recognized the ceremony from the subspace conference three months ago, but distinctly remembered the old woman saying something back.

Your service...something. Pleases us? No, too emotional.

Your services honor us.

While Matteson didn't pretend to know even the basics of Vulcan social niceties, she could make an educated guess that failing to complete the ritual phrasing and effectively saying his service held no honor was a huge blow to Sivok.

Her eyebrows scrunched and Sivok gently tapped her, motioning his head to follow him. When she got a look at his face as he turned, there was still nothing there. Blank.

But definitely not calm.

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Mattson gritted her teeth as she re-steeped the mug of Vulcan tea for the third time in a row.

If he was so darn picky, why didn't His Majesty Sarvok just ask one of his airhead aides to do it? They didn't seem to do anything except brood and write down everything the old fart said. Like his words were so important they needed to be transcribed.

The last 48 hours had made her first all-nighter with Sivok seem like a stroll in paradise, and Sivok at his worst was this moron at his best.

Matteson had never been prouder of her professionalism, keeping her mouth shut as he belittled everything about their work, which was beating the crap out of Vulcan benchmarks.

Not to mention it had been completed on an artificially tight schedule that Sarvok created!

Ironically, she was used to defending and tolerating slights against humanity from the first month with Sivok, but this guy took it to a whole new level.

She hit the knife against the cutting board with unnecessary force as she shredded the Vulcan tea leaves finer as requested, stewing over Sarvok's comments.

Tell the human to prepare the secondary casing transfer. Tell the human to deliver this data chip to Commander Bines. Tell the human to bring Vulcan tea. Tell the human to chop the leaves finer this time.

At least Sivok never spoke about her in the third person or used her as a delivery girl!

Tell the human to leave: her scent is repulsive.

Oh, she was unbearable for his poor sensitive nose, but he was apparently fine with the way Commander Jira smelled! Watching her CO follow the arrogant jerk around, kissing the floor he walked on was making her sick to her stomach.

Somehow, that wasn't the worst of it. If Matteson had proved anything in the last four and a half months, it was that she could handle a Vulcan arse for a few days.

But the real kicker was his treatment of Sivok. Sarvok dug into him with every sentence, criticized everything he did.

Sarvok had commented on being some sort of official mentor to Sivok for many years during his education - was this the way he'd been treated?

If so, it explained some of Sivok's faulty expectations of proper behavior and showed where he picked up his views on tolerance.

The buzzer sounded, indicating the 'correctly prepared' tea was complete. She carefully poured the tea over, ensuring the stream was 'properly aerated and did not touch the side of the mug'.

She glanced at the salt and pepper on the counter, suddenly desiring to dump quantities of both in the mug. She laughed in her head.

She just wanted to get this over with.

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"How many rotations per second in the backup protocol?"

"Approximately 9800."

Sarvok narrowed his eyes. "Approximately? Have you been among humans so long you no longer revere precision?"

"I apologize Osu. The number is an approximation due to the limitations of the monitoring system." Sivok's face remained placid, offering no reaction.

Sarvok flared his nostrils and glanced towards Matteson, who was sitting silently at the conference room table. "And you believe such a deficiency is acceptable? Did the human cause it?"

"Any problems are my responsibility alone, as the leader of the project. Please refrain from including Lieutenant Matteson in discussions of responsibility."

Matteson glanced over to the female aide, who was tapping at the PADD as she transcribed every word they said. The woman met her eyes and raised her eyebrow a fraction of a centimeter, as if daring her to speak.

At this point, Matteson decided it wouldn't be surprising if the aide sent out an annotated copy of the meeting, with extra racist commentary included.

Maybe there was a larger population of bigoted Vulcans than anyone knew and Sivok wasn't such an oddity after all. How could a founding planet have this much distaste for other species? Why bother being in the Federation at all?

The tense exchange between the two Vulcan men continued for the next three hours and Matteson tried to balance her focus between their conversation and keeping her mouth shut.

"I apologize Osu," Sivok repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time, "but I do not understand how the integration of the standard discharge mechanism pertains to an audit of the overall system."

While the grouchy old Vulcan didn't react to Sivok's question, the young female aide raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at him, and Matteson thought she seemed amused at the query.

"I will decide what is necessary to review, and you will obey my wishes."

Sivok dropped his head at the rebuttal, and Matteson chewed on the side of cheek to stop herself from snapping at the old man.

She examined Sivok's face and intricate clothing again. He looked so regal in his formal robes, like a duke of times long past. She lightly smiled at the image the thought conjured in her head, him in tights and big fluffy hat.

Matteson looked up just in time to see the male aide catch the eye of the female stenographer, and they glanced between her and Sivok and back to each other, and then the woman tapped on her PADD, despite the silence in the room.

What did she just record? Matteson tried not to think about it.

The elderly Vulcan continued his attacks. "Why was the core model of the standard POD altered?"

Matteson's stomach churned at the mention of her modifications. Here it comes.

"We were able to substantially increase the efficiency of the cooling cycles."

"I want it removed."

She felt her heart drop. All of those years her father's research sat in a storage cell, finally to be utilized, and now some old killjoy wanted it gone?

"Please state your logic for such a modification. The increase in cooling efficiency cannot be ignored."

The male aide raised an eyebrow and looked towards Sarvok, who remained expressionless.

"We are re-working the standard POD to have a similar mechanism."

Sivok shifted. "We are all Federation. Why is the duplication of effort required?"

"My reasons are my own."

Sivok dropped his head again.

"Doctor," Jira started, and Sivok turned his head towards the Commander, "I think we should trust the recommendations of Administrator Sarvok."

Matteson willed herself not to get emotional in front of four Vulcans and her CO.

They were about to trash her father's work that she had labored so hard to modify into the Vulcan spherical POD. And for what reason? Sarvok wouldn't even tell.

Sivok breathed in deeply. "While I respect your opinions, Osu, I am still in charge of this project. No modifications to the cooling system will be made, at least not in that regard."

Both of Sarvok's aides went wild tapping on their PADDs, and Jira rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Listen," Jira began and the room went silent, "I know you care about the Lieutenant, but we need to do what we have to." The tapping began with even greater intensity.

Sivok drew up. "There has been no logical reason presented to make those modifications, so I will consider them in-"

"Adjourned," the administrator interrupted, and he and his two aides abruptly stood and left the room with Jira trailing in their wake.

The pair sat in stunned silence, until Matteson felt a too-hot hand wrap around her arm. She looked up to meet Sivok's eyes: he was no longer so empty looking.

For the first time ever, his brown orbs looked… warm.

"Do not concern yourself with Sarvok. He is not liked among my own species. I will not allow him to interfere with your accomplishments." His grip intensified for a split second before he let go and leaned back.

She smiled weakly. "How long until the next meeting?"

"One hour, twenty two minutes, and fourteen seconds."

She chuckled. "Do you know it down to the millisecond?"

He tilted his head, thinking, but she interrupted. "I'm kidding. Let's get something to eat. We'll both need our energy to slay the dragon."

Sivok raised an eyebrow at her comment and stood, again brushing against her shoulder as they stepped through the door and into the hallway.

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As they walked towards the conference room, Sivok's internal clock told him they had three minutes to complete the final 22 meters, which would be finished in approximately 59 seconds.

An acceptable level of punctuality.

"You know Sivok, I may have never stated this outright, but I really appreciate all the times you've defended me."

"Meaning?" He tilted his head.

"T'Lar, Commander Jira, today with Sarvok… you've gone up against some big names for me, and it means a lot."

She put her hand on his arm and he looked down at her softly.

"It is logical to defend accusations of wrongdoing that are not just."

She smiled. "I'm sure it is. I just can't imagine you would have done so when you first got here, so it's a big change."

He looked away and she chuckled as they approached the door.

She touched the DNA ID of the keypad. Nothing happened.

She did so again. Still nothing. Sivok gently motioned her aside and repeated the action, to the same avail.

They looked at each in confusion, and she shrugged.

"The system must be down. I guess we'll get in the old fashioned way." She knocked on the door three times.

Instantly, the door opened to reveal Sarvok's male aide.

"You are not welcome at this meeting."

"What do you-"

He shut the door without further comment, leaving Matteson standing with her hand still in the knocking position.

"Excuse me?" She pounded on the door. "Commander Jira?"

No answer.

Sivok stepped forward and did so as well. "Osu?"

Nothing.

He knocked again. "Administrator Sarvok?"

They stood in stunned silence. What was going on?

Her surprised expression twisted into an angry scowl. "Let's go to command, talk to them and sort this out. They can re-activate our passes."

He nodded and followed her back towards the lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is partially written and will be out soon! Thank you for the kudos! Please review as critically as possible, I have very thick skin and I'm trying to improve the flow of the story and keep everyone in character.
> 
> A HUGE thanks as always to TomFoolery for beta-ing and making recommendations to improve various elements. Seventy-Four Hours Later and An Algorithm for Dating are some of the best Spock/Uhura fics, even for those who don't like the pairing typically. It's a much more realistic interpretation of why a Vulcan would date their student.


	9. Chapter 9

"How can I help you?" Pike smiled tightly at the now-furious Matteson, who had dragged Sivok into control seconds before. She caught the cadet's eyes glance at her grip on Sivok's arm, and she released it to lean against the counter.

"We've been locked out of briefing room eleven."

Pike pressed a button on his desk. "It says it's been reserved for your project."

"Yeah, I reserved it." Matteson leaned over to look at the screen. "See? There."

Pike tapped on the console some more, glancing up at Sivok every few seconds. She turned to look at her Vulcan companion. Sivok had never cared for the cadet, but after the cube POD fiasco they seemed to hate each other.

Sighing at their theatrics, she leaned back against the counter. "Can you tell why we were locked out? Who issued it?"

"Commander Jira issued the order to restrict access to briefing room eleven to security clearance seven or higher 38 minutes ago."

That explained it. As a lieutenant, she inherited a security clearance of five and Sivok had been granted a two. Neither really needed anything higher, so it was never an issue of concern.

She tapped her fingers on the cold stone. "Can you override it? This is Commander Jira playing more of his crappy games."

Pike shook his head. "I would need to state a reason."

She paused. "Wait a second, Sivok, don't you have complete access as it relates to this project?"

Sivok nodded affirmative.

"So his order is against regulation, right?"

"Looks like it," Pike agreed, concentrating on the screen while the pair stood in silent anticipation.

"Got it. The doors should open for your IDs."

"Thank you!" She smiled at Pike and turned towards Sivok. "Now let's go have a chat with Commander Jira and the Administrator."

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Matteson pressed her thumb against the glass on the panel, and this time the door slid open, revealing Jira and the three Vulcans.

Sivok stepped in first. "Are we interrupting anything?"

Jira narrowed his eyes, but then gave a tight smile. "No, we were just discussing how important both of you are. Isn't that right?"

The two aides nodded in agreement, but Sarvok stayed still.

Sivok sat down at the far end of the mahogany table and Matteson slipped into the chair next to him.

"I see. Am I to assume you are petitioning to have the Lieutenant and I removed from the project?"

"Of course not." Jira leaned back in his chair.

"Besides," Jira began with a wave of his hand, "that was all a misunderstanding. Sopek was confused; he didn't mean to send you away."

Sivok raised an eyebrow. That was an obvious lie, as Jira himself had placed a security threshold on the room. And there was no ambiguity in the aide's actions.

The fact that Jira was unscrupulous was hardly a surprise, but Sivok glanced towards his old advisor with some confusion. Sarvok had never liked him, but why tolerate such blatant dishonesty? It was highly illogical.

"We understand," Sivok finally replied.

He heard Matteson snort lightly, but Jira nodded and ignored her.

"Great. We were just discussing the modifications to the POD. We're removing the new transference links Lieutenant Matteson built and replacing them with the Vulcan LH24 couplings and interface links."

"And there will be no further debate on the subject," Sarvok interjected.

Sivok glanced between the elderly Vulcan and the commander. "I am not familiar with that model."

"It's brand new. Sarvok was just telling me about it. It does everything your current setup does and more."

"I would be interested in receiving the specifications."

Sarvok suddenly interrupted. "Perhaps at a future point, but for now you have other work to be done." As if on cue, the male aide stood and handed a PADD to Sivok.

"Those are the exhibition details to Earth's bi-annual Conference of Emergency Replication. The coordinators requested the Vulcan Science Academy to provide a demonstration at the event, and you have been selected."

Sivok rapidly flipped through the PADD. "The event is in five days; I am accustomed to significantly more preparation time."

Matteson butted in. "Besides, how are we supposed to talk about technology you changed, if you won't give us the documentation?"

"This is not a presentation on the PODs," Sarvok said a little too forcefully, before returning to his normal monotone voice. "Doctor Sivok will discuss the progress on the modification of the flexible manufacturing system for the compound, and you will discuss its shipment and storage."

Sivok looked around the table. All three Vulcans and the commander were watching him very closely, and the female aide was tapping furiously on her PADD.

What had been discussed in the 19.82 minutes he and Matteson had been locked out of the conference room?

"Of course. Lieutenant Matteson and I will begin preparations immediately."

Sarvok spoke again. "You will send your presentation notes to my aides within 48 hours for approval."

Sivok nodded affirmative, and the room fell into stiff silence.

"Excellent, then I think that's everything." Jira and the aides stood and looked towards Sarvok.

"Dismissed," the elderly Vulcan agreed.

The four quickly rushed out of the room, and Sivok leaned towards Matteson, who had put her head in her hands.

"Are you 'alright?'" He mimicked her words from a few days before, words he would have never said with such concern when he first arrived on this planet.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She looked up and smiled, but Sivok could tell she was still upset. "What was with that meeting? Does the administrator always act like that?"

He shook his head. "No, his current behavior is… unusual."

Sivok put his elbows on the conference room table and folded his hands in the sa'vrek meditation pose, willing his thoughts to consider the situation logically.

Sarvok's unexpected manipulation of the schedule and refusal to provide a logical reason, his shameful rejection of completing the ritual greeting, the bizarre events of the day... The entire ordeal seemed… illogical.

Sivok didn't believe in intuition, but sensed something was amiss.

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Five days later

Matteson spun the rotating chair, shifting back and forth around the room.

"I still think the slides need less color. The red is awful looking."

Sivok narrowed his eyes. "That hue is on the official pallet of the Vulcan Science Academy."

"It's ugly. Can't we change it?"

"No."

"Fine, but your opening is still way too obtuse. You need to simplify and add an attention grabber."

"If the audience is so disengaged they cannot listen past the first 30 seconds, then I fail to see how to attract and maintain their attention with any technique."

She groaned. "Are you sure you don't want to me to do the non-essential talking? You cover the technical points, I engage with the audience?"

Sivok tilted his head in confusion. "My understanding was that you generally disliked interactions with large groups of people, or even with individuals."

She laughed. "Why do you think that?"

"You have indicated as such on 31 occasions, and referred to yourself as a loner 89 times. According to the computer's Standard dictionary, a loner is defined as -"

"Alright, alright, I got it. But those are social interactions. Public speaking is different. When you speak to a crowd, you're speaking to everyone and nobody all at once. Your social inclinations become irrelevant."

He raised an eyebrow. "I appreciate the offer," Sivok replied, causing Matteson to roll her eyes at the level of gratitude he attempted to use, "but I will lead the presentation. Also, my understanding is the individual holding the interview should be the primary speaker."

"I know, just don't put everyone to sleep with your answers."

She sat down and leaned forward, rubbing her temples. "I can't believe they won't even let us look at the new and improved PODs. This whole thing makes me sick."

Sivok nodded, seemingly deep in thought but then suddenly snapped out of his trance. "Are you ready? We need to leave for the transport station soon."

"Yeah, I'm packed. Let me get my PADDs." She walked to her desk and started pushing the thin devices into a bag, and turned around to find Sivok already carrying her travel case.

She smiled.

"Carrying my bag? What a gentleman you are." She winked and brushed lightly against his arm as she walked through the door, but not before catching his slight sigh as they strode down the hallway and into the lift.

Like clockwork, Tilk was standing outside waiting for them, and the hoverbus pulled up as the trio approached.

Naturally, with Sivok's scheduling.

Within twenty minutes, they were at Central Transport to catch their shuttle to Berlin where the conference would be held.

Matteson followed closely behind Sivok through the crowd as he navigated to the area marked 'private' in the vast and complex terminal. Tilk dragged behind, seemingly taking his time as Sivok moved at the fastest pace possible through the corridors.

Matteson was accustomed to military travel, but once again the VSA has insisted on controlling their transportation and using a Vulcan operated shuttle.

She couldn't help but notice the eyes that followed them as they walked through the public-accessible station.

Aliens were becoming more commonplace on Earth, and while Sivok alone would have attracted a few glances, a human and a Vulcan walking in such close proximity drew open stares. It was beginning to grate on Matteson's nerves - at least people around Starfleet showed more discretion.

Finally, they arrived at the secured private transport gate. Every other crew member so far had been human, but this station was manned by a young Vulcan man with light brown hair in the standard ugly bowl cut.

Matteson compared the two Vulcan men. If a society was going to mandate a haircut of all things, you would've thought they would put some effort into making it look good.

Sivok approached and held out a PADD while the two began a fast-paced conversation in Vuhlkansu.

Matteson groaned internally at the lack of universal translators within the station, which were now standard fixtures around Starfleet premises.

A few minutes later Tilk caught up, and after waiting respectfully for a minute as his superior spoke, had jumped into the debate as well.

The alien exchange continued while Matteson was left in the dark, looking around at the bland walls and boring geometric carpet while trying to ignore the increasingly strange scene that was playing out before her.

While she was quite proud of her ability to read Sivok at this point, the other Vulcans were still complete enigmas, and the attendant in front of them no different.

However in this conversation the pace continued to speed up, stopping and starting at unexpected paces. Tilk and Sivok were clearly ganging up on the attendant, but he didn't seem ready to back down.

Sivok's shoulders continued to tense further and Tilk was kept glancing back towards her. Matteson began to worry.

Suddenly the attendant turned and disappeared into the door, leaving the trio standing alone. Sivok glared at the door, and Matteson noticed his fists clenching slightly.

She suddenly imagined reaching forward and uncurling his fingers from their tense position, but shook her head at the outrageous idea. They were coworkers, they had no place touching each other in such ways. Not that he would tolerate it anyhow.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she decided to test the waters. "Everything alright?"

Sivok breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. "No. He says the transport is for the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Okay. Aren't you here on behalf the of the VSA, on orders from the VSA?"

"Yes, I am. And Tilk has been ordered to the conference as well." Sivok slowly turned and looked her straight in the eyes.

"But you are not."

Oh.

Within the hour, Matteson stormed through the doors of her workspace, slamming them behind her and tossing her bag onto the ground.

How is it even legal to deny transport based on species? It can't be!

Well, technically, she had been denied on the lack of official VSA documentation, something that had been implied when she was told she would assist Sivok. Apparently it didn't work that way, at least not with Sarvok around.

It was sweet that the two Vulcans had been ready to refuse to go, and attempt to find other transportation, but there was too great a risk of missing the conference all together if they had left in protest.

She didn't want to risk the presentation, and he didn't actually need her. Tilk knew the PODs as well as she did by now, that was why they brought him. He could assist, which was surely what Sarvok had wanted all along.

"Eliminate the human," she could hear the old jerk saying.

Maybe Tilk could even navigate the super-special and top-secret Vulcan-edition of her improvements, which her father's - not to mention her - hard work had been trashed to accommodate.

She pulled the PADDs from her bag and tossed them onto her desk with greater force than necessary.

Bzeeep

Bzeeep

Bzeeep

She groaned at the sudden company and smacked the button on her desk. The door slid open to reveal Cadet Pike.

"Hey," he mumbled as he strode over to her desk and leaned on the edge. "Everything okay?"

She sighed. "Yeah. Well, no. Well, ugh."

"I saw you on rampage down the hall. What did Sivok do?"

She glared at him and scowled. "Sivok did nothing. Administrator Sarvok is trying to keep me away from the conference."

His blond eyebrows furrowed. "Where you're speaking at tonight?"

She laughed. "Not anymore!"

Twenty minutes later, Matteson finished conveying the entire tale of Sarvok. She explained the meetings, his aide's incessant typing, the audit, the removal of her improvements - everything.

"Wow, I'm shocked."

"I know, right? Can you believe a Vulcan Science Academy administrator would act so… childish!"

"Yes, that's disappointing. But it's Sivok that I'm shocked about."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Pike laughed. "I mean he didn't screw anything up. I saw you coming down the hall and assumed Sivok had teamed up with the other Vulcans against you."

Matteson rose from her desk chair. "Don't talk about him that way!" she snapped, and Pike recoiled in surprise. "Sivok has been great recently, and he's stood up for me time and time again in the last few months."

Pike raised his palms towards her. "I didn't mean anything against him. I've noticed you two spending time together again. I'm sorry."

She sighed and shrunk back into her chair. "No, I'm sorry. I know he's been a pain to you. But he's been trying to be better."

She rubbed her temples. "This whole thing with Sarvok and Jira… it's been really hard on him. He was ready to stand them up - the conference, everything - in defense of me."

"So he didn't go?"

"No, he did. I told him to. The project is more important."

Pike studied her closely and leaned down. "This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

She nodded.

Pike glanced at the clock. "What time does his speech begin?"

"1700 hours."

He paused, thinking. "You can still make it in time."

"No, I can't. I checked the transport logs, they don't land until 1700. And there's nothing in manned logistics either."

He gave her a big smile and put his hand on her shoulder. "I think I know a way."

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Sivok boarded the transport and froze, struggling to prevent his anger from showing on his face.

Jira was sitting in the front row next to Sarvok.

"Hello doctor! Ready for your big presentation?" The commander's face broke into a huge smile.

Sivok stored his travel case in the Vulcan-style under-floor racks and sat down as far from the others as possible.

The shuttle took off and the two hour trip continued in silence, with everyone looking at their respective PADDs for work or entertainment.

Towards the end of the trip Sivok stood and made his way towards the replicator.

"Water, cold."

As the drink materialized, Sivok heard someone approach behind him. Turning to find his old mentor standing expectantly, the elderly Vulcan motioned him into the unoccupied chambers nearby.

Sarvok began. "I am sure you are relieved to be back on Vulcan transport, I read your report on the inefficiencies on the human space doc on your arrival. It must be… refreshing to travel without complication."

Sivok exhaled, controlling his voice with practiced ease. "Unfortunately, my trip has had serious complications. My companion was needlessly detained and denied access the to transport she was promised."

Sarvok tilted his head. "Surely you are relieved to be free of the human Starfleet officer."

"Lieutenant Matteson is excellent company, unlike Commander Jira, who is still here." Sivok said, his voice approaching an excessive number of decibels. "I apologize Osu."

Sarvok walked forward and approached Sivok, studying him. "What has happened to you? You have always had a difficult time controlling your base impulses, but have kept your emotions far under the surface. A result of my direction, no doubt."

Sivok dropped his head, remembering his assigned mentor's assistance in controlling himself more fully, a continuation of his father's training after his untimely death.

The two older Vulcans had been classmates and companions in their youth, but he had never met Sarvok before he arrived at the VSA and had been assigned to Sivok as an official mentor and advisor.

While continuing training in emotional suppression was not part of the official description of either role, Sarvok had considered it his duty in the wake of his old acquaintance's death, much to Sivok's chagrin.

"Furthermore," Sarvok continued when his former pupil failed to answer his question, "you allowed a human to interfere with the standard POD. Starfleet is militarized; it has no place in science."

"The Vulcan Science Directorate was once militarized, and still carries standard weapons on some ships."

"But they are not used. Surely you do not sympathize-"

"No Osu, I do not support Starfleet. But I am on orders from Administrator T'Lar to work within the institution for the time being, and I am attempting to make the best of the situation."

"By assimilating into the humans?"

"No, I am still Vulcan. I associate with no others besides Lieutenant Matteson, nor do I wish to."

"Your interactions with her will cease immediately, outside of minimal working conditions."

Sivok shook his head slightly. "You do not have the authority to make such a demand in regards to my personal time. In any case, we do not spend time together outside of the Starfleet campus."

"Never?"

Sivok was silent, thinking back to the museum and his accidental stay at her apartment. But more on his mind was the memory of Tilk and Chambal, spending all day together and even doing so after work.

He denied any jealousy at the thought. After all, what would Sarvok say about their inexplicable closeness?

When he failed to reply again, the older Vulcan spoke. "You ought to remember your place, and not employ too much confidence into your abilities. You are not our greatest, you never have been."

Sarvok dropped his voice and added, "Remember your incapability cost nine people their lives. Do not forget to temper your actions according to your true talent."

"That was a logistics error. I could not administer medication that I did not have available," Sivok defended, but Sarvok waltzed back into the main area, his formal robes billowing in his wake.

Sivok stood in the silence of his own thoughts, memories of those difficult decades rising unbidden before his mind's eye, before he suppressed the thoughts.

The light buzz of a bell, intended for people with excellent hearing, indicated he needed to return to his seat for landing, and thankfully Sarvok nor anyone else spoke to him again.

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Sivok stood with Tilk at the side of the stage, awaiting to be introduced by the interviewer currently interacting with the presenters before them.

"The crowd is much larger than I anticipated," Tilk remarked, looking towards the curtain blocking the view of the audience from stage left.

Sivok nodded. "I was also expecting a much smaller room."

"Hmmm." Tilk continued to examine his surroundings.

"His method of delivery is interesting," Tilk said, commenting on the interviewer chattering on stage.

"It is obnoxious." Sivok threw a sideways glance at his young companion, hoping he would be silent, as his patience was worn thin from the events of the day and he needed to maintain an outward calm.

While Sivok's views on this planet had relaxed somewhat from what Sarvok and his father had taught him, he still could not understand the young, lanky Vulcan's apparent inexhaustible fascination with Earth and its inhabitants.

"It is meant to be entertaining," Tilk explained. "Due to the conference being streamed live, the interviewer is attempting to maintain a diverse audience's interest in a rather dry subject."

"Dry?"

Tilk tilted his head before responding. "You must admit balancing the particle stream of micro-replicators is not particularly stimulating work."

"It is a logical and necessary duty. Pleasure is not an important aspect."

Tilk looked back at the stage without comment, and as Sivok prepared to reprimand him for the usage of such emotional reasons, he suddenly remembered something Matteson had said in the weeks before.

So you treat everyone else like Sarvok treated you.

He thought back to his conversation with his old mentor on the transport and glanced at Tilk, who was studying the dialogue with intense curiosity.

Sivok decided to hold his tongue, choosing to meditate on the dilemma instead.

Tilk spoke again. "What about the modifications they made to the POD? Will it interfere with my duties?"

Sivok stomped down the annoyance that rose his chest at the question. "You will be the first to see them, but it should not create any issues."

Tilk nodded and shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright folks," the interviewer announced, "last questions, let's wrap this up."

Sivok looked around slightly confused. The microphones were mounted to the stage, but he was surprised that none of the staff intended to brief them. He had to argue for his right to be backstage in the first place, and used VSA credentials to get through.

Surely the organizers knew speaker line up and had planned accordingly? It appeared not - a byproduct of human inefficiency no doubt.

Sivok suppressed his yearning for Matteson's presence. She was an expert in dealing with such problems.

Just as he concluded his thought, he felt a woman's hands tap his shoulders from behind, and spun around to find Matteson smiling at him.

"Miss me?"

He had to stop himself from frowning at the comment, considering its accuracy.

"How did you get here?" Sivok asked, immediately regretting it when he noticed Cadet Pike standing nearby.

Pike smirked. "I know some people in the diplomatic shuttle service. They're so overstocked, there's always extra flitters in the garage."

"And backstage?" Sivok questioned suspiciously.

Pike shrugged. "I talked us in."

"I see." Sivok answered, glancing back to Matteson, who was now staring into the distance with a concerned look on her face.

"What are they doing back here?" She pointed over to Sarvok and Jira were standing off to the side looking at a PADD.

"I do not know." Sivok approached the two, but the auditorium suddenly broke into applause as the interviewer shook hands with the Bolian leaving the stage.

"Now let's start off by covering the basics of this next presenter. It's a joint project between the Vulcan Science Academy and Starfleet, which hasn't happened in over a century…"

"This is us." Matteson grabbed the sleeve of his formal robes and he nodded, and he threw a suspicious glance towards his old advisor and the commander who were making their way towards them.

"Oh gosh, that's Andrew Stevenson," she said, listening as the charismatic interviewer listed the basic details of the project.

"Who?" Tilk chimed in, still curious.

"He's the host of a holo-show. Why bring him to a science conference?" She chuckled and gripped her PADD, flipping through her notes once again.

"You spent the whole trip buried in those. Surely you know them by now." Pike smiled at her frantic reviewing, and Sivok tried to focus his thoughts and ignore the insufferable Cadet.

"I'm just trying to be prepared," she fired back, "Okay, here we go." She breathed out deeply as the announcer's opening intro concluded.

"Now please help me welcome, two of the lead researchers for the adaptable medical replication project, Commander Ronald Jira and Administrator Sarvok of the Vulcan Science Academy."

The Commander and the elderly Vulcan brushed by the pair and onto the stage, with Sarvok briefly meeting Tilk's eyes.

"You will run the initialization phases," he said, commanding the young Vulcan who now stood immobile.

Tilk looked over towards Sivok for guidance.

"Go. Now." Sivok ordered, and Tilk hesitated, but followed the two onstage.

Sivok turned towards Matteson, who was standing in shock. "I think we now know why Administrator Sarvok wanted the audit dates moved."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That chapter was harder to write than the other eight combined. The next will tie up this story line and we can get to summer fun!
> 
> For those of you who have watched Enterprise, you might recognize a good chunk of my Vulcan dialogue from that. The entire conversation between Sivok and Sarvok is basically a modified version (starring snarky-er Vulcans) of the exchange between T'Pol and T'Les in season four's episode Home.
> 
> Thank you to Lizzy50 for reviewing, and the two guests for kudoing! 
> 
> My eternal gratitude is owed to TomFoolery for their numerous improvements to these chapters as beta. The author's note on their Amanda/Sarek fic Then Comes After said there's only a few chapters left in that series, and I might re-read from the start when it's finished!


	10. Chapter 10

Sivok closed his eyes and took a deep breath, desperately trying to balance his emotions.

How could his so-called mentor betray him like this? And why did the commander and Sarvok believe they could get away with such a stunt?

While Sarvok had been acting unusually for the duration of his stay, this exceeded all previous transgressions with substantial intensity.

For the first time, he became concerned for the elderly Vulcan's mental health. Something was very wrong with his disciplines to not see the obvious logical flaws in this dubious plan.

Centering himself, he opened his eyes and spoke. "We should go find our seats."

Matteson's mouth fell open.

"What? We can't just- You can't possibly think- We can't allow-"

"Matteson." He took a step forward and leaned towards her, putting his hand on her arm. "There is nothing we can do tonight."

She stammered, "Surely there's something…"

"Such as? Remove them physically from the stage?" He shook his head and took a step back. "We will contest this, but tonight we must collect evidence."

She hesitated but nodded solemnly.

"Are you two nuts?" They both turned towards Pike, who was looking between them in disbelief. "You can't just let this happen. You have to do something now."

"No," Sivok said simply.

Pike crossed his arms. "If you won't, I will."

Sivok narrowed his eyes at the cadet. "Do not interfere. We will handle the situation logically."

"Wait a second." Pike stepped in front Sivok, earning him an intensified death glare. "Jira is going to claim that Cecilia has been following his orders and it's therefore his work, and I'm sure Sarvok can do the same to you.

Sivok said and did nothing in reply, and Pike sighed and looked towards Matteson.

"I see higher ranking officers get away with this kind of crap all the time: we get complaints from disgruntled low-level researchers everyday. You need to do something tonight."

Matteson shook her head. "We've got the documentation to sort it out. This is crazy, Commander Bines will listen to us. Let's go see what they say, if they even mention us. Come on."

Pike rolled his eyes. "I'm not supposed to be here, remember? I don't have a seat."

"Then stay back here. Or leave." She glanced towards Sivok, who gave Pike one last icy glare before following her lead out the door and into the audience.

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Pike watched them leave in stunned silence, not believing they were refusing to fix this while they still could. There had to be something he could do.

He walked to the edge of stage, as far as he was allowed to go and watched closely, looking for any slip up.

"This is really a fine looking sphere," the MC drolled. Pike recognized him as Andrew Stevenson, the obnoxious news caster turned reality holo-host.

Jira laughed heartily. "The Vulcan Science Academy put good work into this model. In fact, Administrator Sarvok here designed the original POD over 120 years ago."

The interviewer wiggled his eyebrows dramatically and glanced over the old Vulcan. "I've got to say, you don't look a day over 65."

Sarvok raised an eyebrow, and the crowd burst into laughter.

Pike steepled his fingers, considering this new fact. Sarvok had invented the POD way back in the day? Was that why he was so sensitive about modifications to it?

Matteson had mentioned him almost snapping at her when she brought up discussing the POD on stage, but now he was out there doing just that.

The theory made sense motivation-wise, but didn't seem very… logical. However, if Pike had learned anything from dealing with Sivok for the last six months, it was that Vulcans weren't always logical.

"Now what's this?" Stevenson leaned down towards the locked lower casing, and Pike knew from his afternoon visits to the lab that Matteson's modifications had been in that section before the Vulcans ripped them out for their own version.

"These are improvements to the POD I created," Sarvok announced. Jira shifted slightly; Pike leaned in to watch closer.

The commander chimed in. "It's his first upgrade to the PODs core operations in over 90 years, they didn't think there was anything left to do before they figured this out."

"Wow, that's quite the dry spell!" The audience chuckled again.

"Yes, but Vulcans are very patient as you can imagine, and they worked it out in the end."

That's why Sarvok didn't like those changes. Ninety years without a single modification, and a human came in and did it in a few months? That must sting, even for a Vulcan.

But why would Sarvok be this jealous - so jealous he was willing to participate in the whole charade - if he already had the same modifications ready? That was why they could bring them and install them over Matteson's version, right? He cared that much about being first?

Pike studied the stage. He was still very young, but his instincts knew something was wrong.

He watched as Jira leaned down and keyed something into the section, and the door clicked loudly as the paneling lit up and opened.

He pushed the panel back in and rotated the POD away from the audience, so the now-unlocked area couldn't be seen.

"Tilk," Jira ordered, "run the first initialization."

Tilk nodded and scurried over to curved console on the POD and started pressing buttons as various portions lit up.

As the POD began to initialize, Jira returned to bantering with the interviewer on the project, with Sarvok adding occasional comment.

Pike put his head in his hands. He was unwilling to let this stand, no matter how stubborn Sivok was. Think! How do people who plagiarize get busted?

He thought back to his command training at the academy. Then it hit him. Questions and problems. They can't answer detailed questions, and they can't fix obscure problems.

The interview was pre-set and he couldn't change the questions. But could he cause a problem? Something they couldn't fix?

He moved towards Tilk as the young Vulcan walked off stage and to the side, crossing his arms and glaring at Jira and Sarvok as he waited to be called back again.

"Tilk," Pike whispered and motioned him over. Tilk glanced towards the stage, and seeing the POD was just getting started in the primary cycle, walked over towards the Cadet.

"You know these pretty well, right?" Pike questioned.

Tilk turned his head and paused, but then nodded. "It is not my primary field of work, but I have learned them well enough. I also assisted Lieutenant Matteson on the modifications at Doctor Sivok's request."

"Did you see the new Vulcan modifications?"

"No. I will see them briefly when I initialize the second phase."

Pike nodded eagerly. "Take a good look at them, and everything else. See if there's anything off about the POD."

"Why?

"I've got a feeling something's not right here."

Tilk raised an eyebrow. "A feeling?"

Pike rolled his eyes and waved his hand. "Yeah, a feeling. Just do it, it's important."

The young Vulcan eyed the cadet nervously and moved back over to the edge of the stage, and twenty minutes later the cycle began to end and he walked back in front of the massive audience towards the POD.

Pike watched Tilk closely as the lab tech slid the compartment open, glancing intermittently back at Jira, who was occupied by the charismatic MC.

Tilk glanced in the container and activated the second phase. Sarvok turned and watched Tilk slide the compartment shut and started tapping on the console.

When Tilk stood to switch sides, the elderly Vulcan returned to fielding questions from the interviewer, seemingly satisfied.

The young, lanky Vulcan looked out towards the crowd, and then back over at Pike, who nodded in encouragement. Slowly, Tilk leaned back towards the compartment, hidden from the audience's view by the POD.

Pike gritted his teeth as Tilk moved the cables, seemingly seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Pike watched as he turned the nodes and picked up the cords, occasionally glancing up to see neither Sarvok nor Jira were watching.

Why bother locking it up? Hiding the documentation? Making a supposedly well-documented invention so secretive, when it would soon be deployed to thousands of ships and stations?

Then, something changed. Tilk rapidly re-checked the system, and then did again. Fourth time. Fifth time. His glances towards Sarvok were getting more expressive, and Pike wasn't sure what to think.

Tilk gently shut the container and moved to the other side, rapidly hitting the correct buttons and scurrying off the stage and over to Pike.

"Well? Did you find anything?"

"Yes."

"What? Why are they doing this?" Pike motioned towards the stage, and Tilk looked over, and Pike thought he looked the most shaken he had even seen a Vulcan.

"They're the same."

"Same what?"

"The same modifications. The tubes on the top have been changed to be Vulcan, but only in the color of the plastic. Otherwise, it's identical to what Lieutenant Matteson designed. I know because I helped her build it."

Pike paused. "You mean there's no Vulcan modification?"

Tilk shook his head. "Not based on what I saw."

"So this entire thing? It's all a lie? The modifications, the ejections, the lockouts, the conference? This was all for show?"

Tilk dropped his head. "We will need more proof."

Pike nodded. "Check again when you go back out."

Twenty minutes later, Tilk returned. "I am sure. There have been no changes."

Pike put his hand on his chin and thought back to his original plan. Questions or problems. An idea began to form in his mind.

"So Sarvok doesn't really know how the modifications work?"

"I am assuming he plans on studying it and truly replicating it. However, if Matteson and Sivok had taken credit for it in this public setting, such a plan would have been impossible."

"So he probably doesn't really understand it though? You said the changes he made were aesthetic?"

Tilk nodded. "I do not know how deep his understanding of the modifications runs."

"Is there anything you could do to the modifications that Sarvok couldn't fix?

Tilk turned his head. "He designed the POD, he may be able to fix anything in it."

"But these modifications, they're a big change, right? So maybe he can't?"

Tilk looked nervous and didn't comment further, choosing to glance back towards the stage and check the cycle status.

Pike straightened himself and spoke slowly. "Is there anything you can do that Sarvok or Jira might not be able to fix? What about something only Matteson could do?"

Tilk furrowed his eyebrows. "Main transference coupling overcooling."

"Overcooling?''

"The temperature in the chamber drops too fast, and the system begins to shut down," Tilk explained, "I have accidentally triggered it on five occasions before, each time both Doctor Sivok and I have been unable to restore normal functions. It deals directly with the modification, and so far, only Lieutenant Matteson has been able to correct it."

Pike gave a cheshire cat grin. "Can you trigger it without attracting too much attention?"

Tilk shook his head, like a dog wringing water from its ears. "We do not know for sure. We could not be privy to the full set of facts. Perhaps there is a reason for their claims unknown to us."

Pike sighed. "Think about it - everything that's happened. It's clear that Sarvok wants to claim her modifications for himself. He jealous."

"Professional jealousy is illogical."

Pike stepped closer to Tilk, and looked him straight in the eye. "Is lying about modifications logical? You heard him claim he invented them, when you know he didn't."

Tilk looked deflated and Pike continued. "Listen, they could get away with this. I've seen it happen. So let's make this right. If Sarvok really does know the modifications, he can fix it himself."

Tilk said nothing as he walked back over to the side of the stage, and waited in silence for his cue to begin the final initialization. When it came, Pike watched in anticipation as the young Vulcan walked to the console and started the final cycle, keying in the necessary codes.

He did nothing further and began to stand, and Pike felt his heart drop. Cecelia was about to get her hard work taken from her.

"The manufacturing flow is really interesting Commander," the interviewer turned towards the elderly Vulcan. "I'm curious, what is the balance of work between the VSA and Starfleet?"

"It is an equal partnership."

"What about the changes to the POD?"

"No," Sarvok replied, "those are exclusively the work of my team at the Vulcan Science Academy. Starfleet has never worked on the POD."

Pike watched Tilk stiffen at the lie, and he suddenly but slowly stepped back up towards the POD, discretely keying in a series of codes and briskly walking off stage.

Pike smiled and breathed out in relief, but his hands shot over his ears as a high pitched alarm began to emanate from the POD.

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In the crowd, 45 minutes earlier

Matteson crossed her arms tighter to her chest as the presentation continued. Sarvok was bragging about the top-secret Vulcan modifications, and taking credit for Sivok's years of hard work on the compound.

What is wrong with these people? There's no way they would get away with this: the head of the VSA herself knew Sivok had built it!

Matteson rubbed her temples, tempted to leave and throw 'gathering evidence' to the wind. The POD began to power down and Tilk discreetly slipped on stage, activating the second phase, the screen overheard swirling in demonstration of the new protocols being loaded.

Tilk disappeared back behind the POD and she narrowed her eyes. What was he doing? Checking out the modifications, it seemed. And taking a long time in doing it.

Suddenly he flew off the stage, and she couldn't see his face from this angle. He was probably just curious.

Twenty minutes later, Matteson was stewing in her seat. She glanced at Sivok. His eyes were shut, probably attempting to control his emotions.

Tilk came out for the next initialization, and she watched him trigger it, and then slink back behind the POD, presumably to look again at the modifications. This time when he stood up, she caught a glimpse of his face.

He looked upset.

Most humans wouldn't notice it, but months around Sivok had taught Matteson to see the more subtle clues of Vulcan emotions. And Tilk had always been easier to read.

What did he see in the modification compartment?

"Sivok," she whispered and leaned into him slightly, he opened his eyes.

"Hmmm?"

"Did you see anything odd when you setup the POD this morning?"

He thought for a moment. "No. It was functioning normally."

"What about the modification compartment?"

"It was locked."

She frowned and looked forward, leaning back into her own seat. They both watched the insipid presentation continue.

Finally, towards the end of speech, the last initialization was ready to be launched. Tilk walked back over to the POD, and Matteson watched carefully as he ran the protocols on the console.

She watched as Tilk froze, reacting slightly to Sarvok's lie. "Those are exclusively the work of my team at the Vulcan Science Academy. Starfleet has never worked on the POD."

She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, opening them right as Tilk hit the screen again. He had tried to make it look like part of the initialization process, but she knew the steps by heart.

Whatever he just did wasn't part of it.

She elbowed Sivok lightly. "Did you see that?"

He tilted his head. "See what?"

"What Tilk just did."

"No."

"He just did something else. Besides the initialization."

Sivok shook his head. "I saw nothing out of the ordinary."

She leaned towards him. "He did something. I saw it."

"Shhhh!" the pair both turned to glare at the old woman behind them who had shushed them, and looked back towards each other.

"There was an extra step that shouldn't be there."

He sighed slightly. "I saw nothing, and I was watching him. You are being illogical."

She elbowed him a bit harder. "I know what I saw."

He looked ready to retort, but the POD started to screech and light up. The overhead screen projecting the status of the POD to the audience suddenly changed to display a computer-generated error message.

Main coupling failure. Temperature unstable. Shut down in 180 seconds.

The audience began to whisper to each other and Sivok stood. "If the POD shuts down, the samples inside will die."

Matteson nodded and followed him as the made their way out through the people in the rows and back towards the stage entrance.

By the time they got backstage, the countdown clock was at 100 seconds. Sarvok and Jira were trying to override the problem, but the system wasn't responding.

"Gah!" Matteson exclaimed as she watched Jira tap on the curved console of the POD. "He's stabilizing the temperature manually and trying to let the POD raise it automatically. That won't work. You have to override the stabilizers and adjust the gauge by hand. It's a side effect of the modifications, they're trying to do it the old way."

She looked at the clock to shut down, still projected on the main screen of the auditorium. 55 seconds. 54 seconds. 53 seconds.

She sighed. "I'm going out there. We can't let this batch die."

He nodded and she dashed out, a Jira threw her a panicked look.

"What are you doing?" the commander hissed.

"Saving the samples," she ran to the back and opened up the modifications.

"That is classified!" Sarvok exclaimed, but she ignored him and pulled the gauge out. That's odd. The Vulcans used the same model she had.

29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24.

She glanced up the screen for a second, trying to finish the process as the internal temperatures began to reach critical levels.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14.

The holo-host MC had taken to narrating the countdown, and she gritted her teeth. "Would you shut up!" she yelled from behind the POD, but he kept on going.

"Come on everyone!" He invited the crowd to count along.

"What the-" She bit her tongue and tried to focus through the final ten seconds.

5, 4, 3, 2-

"Got it!" she yelled and the system lit back up, the countdown disappearing from the screens.

The audience erupted into wild applause, as Stevenson edged them on. "That's right everyone, let's give it up for…" he shuffled over to Matteson. "What's your name?"

Jira put on a fake smile and jumped in. "This is one of our lower level assistants. She helps out in the lab sometimes."

"Well I think you should give her a promotion then, isn't that right?" Stevenson turned back to the crowd who cheered again.

Jira laughed. "We'll see about that." He glared at Matteson, who was paying no attention to the scene, looking down in the case.

Sarvok tried to reach forward and shut it, but she braced her arms against the side, keeping it open and moving the tubing on top.

"I can't believe this," she murmured, the sensitive mics mounted to the ceiling picking it up and projecting it throughout the room.

"Can't believe what?" Stevenson picked up, leaning over the case with her. "Can we spin this towards the audience, so they can see what's going on?"

He looked between Jira and Sarvok, who both answered "No" at the same time.

Stevenson narrowed his eyes and turned back towards Matteson with a big smile. "Very well. You sounded upset, tell us what's going on." He leaned in towards her, like a fox peering into a hen house.

She took a deep breath. "It's nothing. We'll handle it later."

"Sure it is. Did you discover what caused the problem? How did you fix it? Does this happen frequently?" He fired question after question at her, and she rubbed her temples.

Jira budded in. "She isn't authorized to answer any questions."

"We want to know how she saved the day, right?" Stevenson motioned back towards the audience, who cheered in reply.

"Lieutenant Matteson. I'm ordering you-" Jira began, but Stevenson interrupted.

"Lieutenant? I thought you said she was a nobody."

Jira sighed. "Well, lieutenant isn't really a high rank."

"High enough. So, Matteson, right?" Sevenson smiled and she laughed nervously.

He continued on. "Tell us about what happened to the modifications. Was this a technical failure? Sabotage? Are we looking at a case of espionage here?" Stevenson grinned and waited in anticipation, the entire room falling silent.

Matteson stared back for a moment. "Nothing. Nothing has changed, quite literally. That's all I have to say."

Stevenson frowned at her lack of juicy details, and turned on Jira and Sarvok who hovering impatiently. "Matteson here says nothing has changed. So why did the system malfunction, if nothing has changed?"

Sarvok's mouth thinned into a straight line. "Technical problems occasionally happen; it is a simple fact."

"Yeah," Stevenson began, "but I thought Vulcan technology rarely had such problems."

"All technology can have issues that remain undetected in development."

"But why were you unable to fix it?"

"It was an unusual occurrence."

"But she did something neither of you tried."

"I would have attempted it next."

"You were out of time!"

"The technique I was using would have worked." Sarvok rebuffed, his Vulcan calm faltering slightly.

"But you just said you would have used hers next."

"I would have."

"But now you're saying what you were doing would have worked."

Sarvok took a deep breath. "This line of questioning is inappropriate."

Stevenson shrugged. "I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."

"The Vulcan Science Academy will investigate the problems."

"Will you work with Matteson here?"

Sarvok paused. "Naturally."

"Because she knew it better than you."

Sarvok drew up. "I am the designer of the POD."

"Who couldn't fix a critical error," Stevenson shifted with excitement, digging into his interviewee. "Tell me, what would have happened if the POD had shut down?"

Sarvok said nothing in reply and Stevenson looked towards Jira. "The samples would have died, right?"

No reply.

"This seems like a major error in the project, and hints that Vulcan technology might not be as advanced as you'd like us to believe." The audience murmured, and Stevenson smiled towards the crowd.

Sarvok turned his head, his eyes flashing. "Vulcan technology has remarkably low error occurrences than any other species efforts."

"It sure doesn't look so. You almost just killed your only sample set on Earth. You said earlier that manufacturing is in prototype, and hasn't begun."

"That was-"

"And you were unable to fix the problems," Stevenson dug in.

"Do not-"

"So tell me, will you now remove the modifications? Now that you've seen the problems? I know this was your first improvement in 90 years, it must be disappointing to have to trash it."

"The modifications will most certainly be removed."

"Were you confident they worked properly before?"

Sarvok's Vulcan calm continued to unravel. "I- They- No. I was not confident."

"Then why send them?"

"Because-"

"Because you built them after all of this time? Was it ego that led you to include the modifications before they were finished?"

"I do not have an ego."

"But you shipped them anyways."

"I did not believe there would be problems. The audit passed."

"So why couldn't you fix it when it malfunctioned?"

"If I had known the overrides required a manual re-set, I would not have included the modifications." Sarvok paused, realizing his error .

"But you built it, right? How could you not know how the overrides worked?"

Sarvok began to look slightly nervous. "It was designed by an assistant."

"Matteson? Is that why she could fix it?"

"Yes, it was her faulty design. I will speak to Starfleet about this regrettable occurrence." He relaxed into his usual stoicism, seemingly off the hook.

Stevenson grinned. Sarvok had taken the bait.

"But I thought that Starfleet was not involved in the PODs. You said so earlier."

Sarvok almost stammered. "I did not say-"

"Can we get a replay?" Stevenson yelled off stage, and within a few seconds the clip appeared on the screen.

"Those are exclusively the work of my team at the Vulcan Science Academy. Starfleet has never worked on the POD."

At this point, Jira was looking panicked as the room's noise level grew, the audience members quietly talking to each other as the events unfolded before them. Jira swallowed hard as he looked at the camera.

Stevenson sauntered towards Matteson, who was still leaning next the modifications on the POD. "Administrator Sarvok says you build the mechanism that malfunctioned. What happened?"

She continued to look into the compartment. "I built the entire modification."

"As Sarvok's assistant?"

"No, I had never met him until last week."

"So you built it alone?"

"With the help of Doctor Sivok and his team."

"Who's Doctor Sivok?"

She looked up at Stevenson, who could barely contain his joy at the turn events.

"The lead researcher for both the compound and the adaptable manufacturing system."

"Are you sure? Let me get this clear, Administrator Sarvok and Commander Jira are not the lead researchers of the adaptable medical replication project?"

The room waited in silence, and Jira stepped forward. "This is outrageous!"

"Are they?" Stevenson demanded again, ignoring Jira.

"No." She replied and the audience gasped, eating up the scandal like a holo-program. No wonder Stevenson was enjoying himself so much.

"Is this Doctor Sivok here?" She nodded and motioned to the Vulcan standing by the side of the stage, and Stevenson ran over to Sivok.

"Is what she says true?"

Sivok nodded affirmative. The audience got louder and Stevenson turned towards them.

"I demand their immediate removal." Sarvok stepped in, and Stevenson smiled at him. "These are some hefty accusations in the academic world. Would you like to defend yourself for the galaxy to see?"

Sarvok walked towards the cameras. "This human is lying, and he is a failure and murderer." Sarvok pointed towards Sivok, who raised an eyebrow. "She built the modifications, which is why they do not work."

"They did work!" Matteson replied. "They have for months. You did the audit to check! Everything was working today until…"

She glanced off the stage to find Tilk and Pike standing and watching, and they both quickly looked away. She rolled her eyes.

"Until you changed the tubing on the POD to look like Vulcan model. You must have hooked up your forgery wrong." She glanced back towards Tilk, who looked relieved.

"The problem is your faulty engineering-" Sarvok began, looking at Jira. "Commander Jira requested she be removed from the credits; I was simply following her commanding officer's request."

Jira gasped. "I did no such thing! This entire plan was your idea! I told you we shouldn't have let them come today…"

"Why are you here?" Stevenson interjected, looking towards Matteson and Sivok.

"We were told we would present, but they were introduced instead. I believe we were necessary to stabilize the compound in the PODs after transport."

Sivok glanced at Jira. "I do not believe Commander Jira has the required knowledge. Also, we provided them our presentation notes, which enabled them to answer your more specific questions."

Stevenson nodded. "But here's the big kicker. The real crux of this whole thing." He began, and the room went silent. "Administrator Sarvok said he built the modifications on the record, but has now stated he did not."

Stevenson looked Sarvok straight in the eye. "I thought Vulcans couldn't lie."

The room broke out in whispering again, and Sarvok stammered. "I will speak to your superiors."

Stevenson laughed. "Go ahead. Scandal is our business."

The holo-host looked straight to the camera. "What an amazing evening. Could Administrator Sarvok's behavior demonstrate lingering jealousy at Lieutenant Matteson's improvements, after 90 years of stagnation? Now, I know this is a technology conference, but I think we've seen some real insight into Vulcan psychology here…"

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Matteson turned the corner of the secluded roof-top area and sat down next to Sivok.

"Ah, the best view," she gazed dreamily at the brick wall and he raised an eyebrow.

"Your sense of comedy is still incomprehensible to me."

She laughed. "You and everyone else." She snapped the top of her lunch open and they both began to eat from their respective containers.

"Great job at the conference."

He narrowed his eyes and finished his bite. "How so?"

"You did a good job on stage."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your performance was better. I… appreciate your bravery on proclaiming our authorship in front of such an audience. You took a great risk."

She shrugged. "At that point, Sarvok was already in hot water. I didn't want to risk looking like an accomplice. I figured if I did nothing, they would try to blame us."

Sivok nodded. "Logical."

She smiled. "I'm logical?"

"Not as a whole, but in this instance."

"I see."

The ate in silence for a minute, enjoying the peace of secluded area.

"Commander Jira is on unpaid leave." Matteson added suddenly. "They're investigating: I'll have to testify at his court martial if they decide to press full charges. Plagiarism is a serious offence."

Sivok nodded and didn't seem bothered Jira's punishment. Matteson was relieved to have him gone, but was more concerned about backlash Sivok might face.

"So, what's going to happen to Sarvok? Do you know?"

Sivok nodded and finished chewing. "Administrator T'Lar watched the entire conference on video stream."

She gasped. "The head of the VSA saw that whole fiasco?"

He nodded in affirmation. "Yes, and has apologized on his behalf. She has also recalled the Administrator, who will likely be sent to a monastery for mental reconditioning."

Matteson tried not to imagine what Vulcan 'mental reconditioning' looked like, and wondered if Sivok had ever faced such a thing.

Sivok continued at her silence. "I believe he is afflicted with a psychologically degenerative disease, likely caused by his advanced age. He will either recuperate under their care or be isolated to preserve his dignity as his mental disciplines continue to decline."

Whatever dignity he has left.

Matteson studied her Vulcan companion's face, which told so little, as always. "How are you doing, after the way Sarvok treated you?"

Sivok shrugged lightly. "Any emotions relating to the experience will be repressed in meditation. Also..." he paused and Matteson studied him. He looked nervous.

"...the incident has provided a level of closure. Sarvok continued what my father started. By his… torment… ending, it allows me to fully repress the dynamic with my father, which should have long passed."

"Were you close with your father?"

Sivok paused. "Not voluntarily. I have been considering your comment on perpetuating the treatment that was done to me. I have made no determinations, but I have decided to meditate on the issue."

Matteson smiled. "That's- wow. I'm glad you're considering it." She brushed against his arm and he looked down softly at her. "You've really gotten a lot better. Thank you."

He nodded and they both went back to their meals. He finished first, and waited until she completed her sandwich.

"I must complete a report first, but I will be to your lab in less than two hours. We must begin our project as soon as possible."

Matteson set her container down and turned towards him, confused. "What project? The TSI-spec review?"

He gave her an exasperated look. "We must determine the cause of malfunction."

"Huh?"

He blinked rapidly. "At the conference. On stage. Surely you remember."

She laughed. "Sivok, the malfunction was…" She studied his confused expression.

He had no idea Tilk triggered it intentionally. She remembered him insisting Tilk had done nothing extra, that he hadn't seen it. And if didn't, it was probably just her who knew.

While Sivok had just stated he was reconsidering his treatment of others, she decided not to test it. The less people who knew what really happened, the better.

"...something we need to look into further, I agree. Let's go."

They both stood and walked towards the lift, and he ordered it towards her lab, as always, even though his came first. He really had changed. Sure, he was still a jerk sometimes, and she wondered how many comments he simply kept to himself.

But at least to her, his behavior had been drastically different. The lift came to a stop, and she found herself not wanting their time together to end.

"Computer, stop."

He looked towards her curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just, graduation is right around the corner."

"I was not aware you were a student."

She chuckled. "I'm not. But you know what graduation means."

"No, I do not."

"Summer time!"

He raised an eyebrow. "We are preventing others from using the lift."

She sighed. "I was just wondering if you wanted to do something next week."

"Do something?"

"Yeah, like go to park or to an aquarium or something."

"Such as the museum opening we attended?"

"Yes, but hopefully not like the museum." She glared at him, thinking back to the ordeal. "But in principle, yes. As co-workers and… friends."

He looked forward, not meeting her eyes. She wondered if she had made a mistake in asking. "I must decline."

She looked away. "That's fine, I guess. Computer, resume."

He nodded and strode out of the lift. "Where are you going?" She called after him. "Your lab isn't on this floor."

He paused. "I… am going to the mess hall."

"You hate the mess hall. And you just ate."

"I require a beverage from the replicator. And I do not hate anything."

"Isn't there one by your lab?"

"I wished to use the mess hall's replicator."

She sighed. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He stepped closer to her. "You did not. I simply require a beverage from the mess hall." She nodded and headed towards her lab, casting a glance back towards him as she left.

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Sivok walked in the mess hall, trying to repress his annoyance his mistake. He glared at the replicator, knowing he now had to order something.

He did not have time to 'go do something' with Matteson, and was correct in his decision to turn her offer down.

Besides, he couldn't risk another museum-type event. With Jira gone, anyone could be assigned as the new manufacturing representative. He needed Matteson for balance and assist in managing them, and couldn't risk her again.

Not after months of painstakingly controlling his words as not to offend her, or any of the emotionally handicapped humans who weren't Matteson.

"Vulcan tea, hot."

The tea materialized on the replicator pad and he picked up his drink, finally heading to his lab. He walked towards the main doors, but turned around as he approached. There were approximately 15 humans gathering and talking near the area, and he had no desire to walk through the crowd.

He spotted a small exit towards the back, and headed in that direction. He froze in surprise as he rounded the corner.

Tilk and Chambal were sitting in the semi-secluded area, right next to each other, so close they were almost touching. In public. Tilk was leaning in towards her, and she was laughing at whatever he said.

He felt his chest tighten, and his breathing catch. What did he say that made her so happy? Why did she trust him so much? How had Tilk even gotten a single word out of the painfully shy human?

It may have taken Tilk years to achieve such a state, but surely he started somewhere, made some cultural compromise with Miss Chambal. Right?

He thought back to her defense of their work onstage, of the personal risk she took in doing so. Surely he owed her the same compromise.

"Do you want to do something next week?" He thought back to her disappointment at his response and her guilt over asking, so evident on her face and in her voice, unlike a Vulcan.

He strode over to the eating pair. "Tilk. Miss Chambal." The young Vulcan looked up suddenly, but he didn't move away from the human woman.

"Osu?"

Chambal cowered at her boss's sudden presence, and shifted ever-so-slightly towards Tilk.

Sivok felt his chest constrict again. He focused on his Vulcan lab tech.

"You mentioned you participate in a human game sponsored by Starfleet."

Tilk nodded. "It's called baseball."

"Does the game allow visitors?"

"There is often a small crowd."

Sivok paused. "When is the next game?"

"The first game of our season will occur in ten days."

"Forward attendance information to my PADD."

"Yes, Osu." Tilk picked up his PADD from the bench and tapped on the screen before setting it back down, looking up at his superior.

Much to Sivok's relief, he didn't ask any questions. And Sivok certainly didn't offer any answers unprovoked, not fully understanding his actions himself.

Without another word, Sivok nodded to them both and strode out of the room, leaving his two lab techs in the mess hall staring after him in bewilderment.

Once he was finally back to his lab, his internal clock told him he had another ten minutes before the pair would return from their mid-day meal break. He typically took the time to meditate or return subspace messages from colleagues on Vulcan, but today he did something different.

He opened up the message Tilk had just forwarded, reading over the details of the planned event. Sivok knew nothing about baseball, but if Tilk and Chambal participated in the event together, perhaps Matteson would enjoy it? Enjoy being there with him?

He thought back to her 'invite' to the museum. She had basically ordered him there, and said she would 'pick him up' at a certain time.

After a moment of contemplation, he composed his message. "I will pick you up at 2PM at your lab." Attaching the game's digital flyer, he sent it to her PADD before he could second guess himself.

It was done. They would attend this baseball game together, and he would attempt to find Tilk's logic for participating in such an event.

And perhaps gain a bit more of Matteson's trust. Not that it mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was incredibly difficult to write and I re-did it many, many times. It pays strong homage to the TNG episode 'Sarek', right down to wanting to finish 'one last thing' in his career, only to realize a human had beaten him to it, and a close friend of Sivok's, no less. I also wanted to capture a bit of Pike's future bravado and a younger, more Kirk-like blind dedication to justice, and I hope this did it.
> 
> Big thanks to TomFoolery for beta-ing and improving my writing a 1000x times over, and being instrumental in making Sarvok a deeper character and less like a cookie cutter generic 'bad guy'. Also a big thank you to TomFoolery for writing their amazing Sarek/Amanda fics that show a deeper side to the familiar Vulcan, which you should totally read if you haven't already.
> 
> Please review! It encourages me a lot in keeping on a writing schedule, and I appreciate all of your favorites/follows/reviews. And thanks for all of the kudos. :-)


	11. Chapter 11

"Is the seating assigned?"

"No, this is casual. Let's just pick somewhere."

Sivok nodded and walked down the stairs, scanning the bleachers and attempting to predict which areas would remain secluded. He gave up and sat down on the nearby bench. It was impossible to calculate without having attended a game in the past.

"This is nice." Matteson smiled and adjusted her blouse, and Sivok looked away, still unused to seeing her civilian clothing.

"Have you been here before?" he questioned, looking forward at the field as Starfleet crewmen scurried about, carrying supplies and equipment Sivok assumed was used in the sport.

"No, I knew Starfleet Academy has collegiate teams in a bunch of sports as well as the intramural faculty teams, but I don't do team sports."

"Do?" He turned his head at her phrasing.

"Participate in or watch. I'm not really a team player."

"Because you are a loner?"

She chuckled at his continued use of her word. "Yeah, but more because I don't take direction very well."

He nodded. "I have noticed."

She elbowed him playfully and laughed and he raised an eyebrow.

"I was in gymnastics when I was younger. But then I got too tall. Do they have sports on Vulcan?"

He considered her question. "We have various physical activities, some of which are performed against another individual. We also have judged competitions on various mental and physical events."

"But nothing like this."

He shook his head. "Well, this will be different for you. I'm glad you're branching out into less familiar territory. Are you looking forward to watching the game?"

He said nothing and chose to stare forward, eliciting a sigh from her. "Very well. I saw a snack replicator up there. I'm going to go grab something for us."

He nodded once and continued to look forward, watching the players warm up and practice on the sides of field. His eyes focused on his Vulcan lab tech, whose darker skin pigmentation and tall, lanky build differentiated him from the other players, even with the hat covering his ears.

Tilk was throwing the ball in a very specific fashion, and another player in the same blue and red uniform was catching it in various positions. They would stop and talk for a few seconds and then resume.

Others were using tapered sticks to hit the same type of ball, or running back and forth in a circle. The other team appeared to be doing some form of calisthenic stretching.

Sivok narrowed his eyes, confused as to why Tilk would participate in such an event. It seemed childish; a game of balls, sticks, and basic hand-eye coordination? He figured Chambal must have brought Tilk into it. He tried to stomp down his reaction to thoughts of the pair.

His musings were interrupted by a group of humans who began to bump into his legs as they squeezed by him to the empty bleachers to his right, offering their apologies as they went. He gave them his most ferocious death glare he could manage and looked around. Over half of the seating was empty, why did they select this area?

As the group of cadets settled into their seats, talking and arguing loudly among themselves, Sivok closed his eyes and carefully suppressed his frustration.

Why was he here? To build trust with Matteson, certainly not to be around the humans or watch this childish game. He also wanted to consider Tilk's logic in participating. He would accomplish both, and promptly leave and return to work, even though Matteson and his lab techs were "off" that day.

The noise level around him grew and his frustration returned, and his eyes shot open as he stood, making a split-second decision to go find Matteson and move to a quieter place. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the young human woman who had seated herself to his right was now standing, holding a tray of beverages in her hand and passing them to the others.

His arm knocked slightly into her as he stood, and she turned to try and regain her balance, dumping the tray of drinks onto him in the process. The group went silent, watching the tall Vulcan's annoyance become visible, even to their untrained eyes. The red sticky substance quickly soaked into his Vulcan-style black suit, and he narrowed his eyes at the young woman, who now looked terrified.

"I'm so sorry!" she shrieked, grabbing the pile of bio-napkins from the bench and frantically rubbing them on him and continuing to jabber her excuses.

"You were sitting so still- I didn't think- I'm so sorry-"

He quickly attempted to escape by edging down the row of bleachers, away from the group while she followed, continuing to attempt to 'clean' him. He winced slightly as she brushed against his hands, throwing up his mental shields as glimpses of her thoughts slipped through. He jerked away, quickly sliding out of the row and heading up the stairs.

The girl was terrified of him.

To make it worse, she had been since before his sudden movement caused her drink tray to spill. Why? Vulcans were pacifists. Surely she learned this in her primary education.

He thought of Chambal, who still had never spoken directly to him, not that he really minded. He loathed the idea of a chatty human lab tech. Then he thought of most of the Starfleet officers and crewman. They avoided him completely, often turning and walking in the other direction or exiting the lift as soon as he came near. Were they afraid of him too?

Jira and Pike were the exact opposite: overconfident in their confrontations with him. He had long wondered where their negative emotions against him stemmed from. Was is it his behavior, as Matteson had said?

But he had neither done nor said anything to the young woman in the bleachers, and she had been afraid before spilling her tray of drinks. Was it just because he was Vulcan? But most importantly, where did Matteson fit into this? Was she not afraid? Why, and what did it mean for the ongoing relationship?

The sticky liquid stiffening on his clothing, pulled Sivok from his thoughts. The game had not yet begun, and the outing was already going poorly.

"Sivok? What happened?" He looked up the stairs to find Matteson holding a tray of food and staring at him with concern.

He looked down at his clothing. "We need to acquire new seating."

"I see. Let's.. .go do that." She stifled a laugh, causing him to raise an annoyed eyebrow as they moved to the other side of the bleachers, settling into a mostly deserted area.

"It's called popcorn." She smiled and handed him the small, round container.

"I do not… care… for human food."

"Just try it. It's traditional."

He looked around, all twenty-nine humans in his immediate vicinity had a 'popcorn' container as well. Apparently she was correct. Unable to argue with tradition, he grimaced and looked down at his snack.

He studied the bowl-like container and held out his hand. "May I have a spoon."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't have one. You don't eat popcorn with a spoon."

He looked around to the crowd, attempting to determine the traditional consumption method. She was correct that no utensils were in use. Most of the humans were using their hands, some were throwing it up and into their mouth, and others were feeding it to each other.

He looked away from the disturbing sights, but a man near the front caught his attention. He had tipped the container back, and was lightly shaking it to coax the pellets out and into his mouth. It was still an uncivilized eating method, but was better than using his hands.

Sivok breathed in deeply and threw the container back as he attempted to 'drink' the popcorn, which naturally spilled all over his face and onto his clothes, sticking to the beverage still soaked into his clothing.

He brushed the material from his bangs and fought the urge to scowl as Matteson cackled at the sight.

"What are you doing?!" she groaned as she continued to laugh. "Fine. I'll be right back."

Sivok sat and meticulously picked the crumbs from his collar, and she returned less than a minute later. "Here's your spoon. I read that Vulcan food is salty, so I really poured it on."

He snatched the utensil from her hand and spooned out a kernel, causing her to laugh again. "You look so silly eating popcorn that way…"

He glared and crunched down the extra-salty popcorn, and paused thoughtfully.

"Well?" Matteson leaned forward.

"It is…. palatable." He put his spoon back into the popcorn and continued to eat.

She smiled. "Really? There's a human food you actually like?" She burst out laughing and he went to retort, but the announcer's voice boomed over the sound system.

"It's a beautiful day here at Fleet Stadium at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. The temperature is 20 degrees, 67% humidity, with 14 KPH flowing east to west."

"Here we go." She shifted back in her seat and picked up her nachos, crunching down one of the cheesy chips as he continued to spoon popcorn into his mouth.

"Here's the starting line up. It's not necessarily pretty, as that training accident two days ago really took a hit to the entire athletics department."

The other announcer chimed in. "I agree, this isn't their best. We'll see how it goes. It'll be Wilson to lead things off, followed by Sealer and Martinez. On first base we'll see our Bajoran, Nehler Kiva then Fuller and Davis in the field plus Martin on third. And of course, our star pair who people come kilometers to see. Starfleet Academy's only Nausicaan: Zhkaria who will be catching, along with our Vulcan pitcher Tilk on the mound."

Matteson snorted on her nachos and laughed. "Tilk is the pitcher? And a Nausicaan is catching? How did they get them to join a baseball team in the first place?"

Sivok raised an eyebrow and said nothing in reply.

They watched the stats project onto the board. "Who knew they took this so seriously…" Matteson commented.

"They do appear quite dedicated." Sivok looked around at the now almost-full seating area.

"No kidding." She eyeballed the colored fan shirts around her. Blue and red for the sciences and engineering team, The Socrates, and yellow for The Commanders.

"This is why I don't like team sports…." she mumbled.

"You are not enjoying this activity?" Sivok asked, now concerned.

She laughed. "The game hasn't even started yet. I'm sure it will be fun. I just think people get too wrapped up in it."

He nodded and returned to his popcorn, one spoonful at a time.

They both sat and watched the inning unfold. Tilk was holding The Commanders at zero, or as the announcer commented he had 'given up no runs'. Sivok wasn't surprised. Tilk had twice their hand-eye coordination and agility: what did they expect?

He continued to glance over at Matteson, becoming progressively more concerned.

Why wasn't she enjoying her time more? Wasn't that why humans attended these events? He studied the others in the crowd. They all seemed somewhat subdued, perhaps it was due to the lack of activity in the game?

The inning continued, and he noticed the teams seemingly switch positions. Tilk left the pile of dirt he had been throwing from, and disappeared into a section off the main playing area. The batter approached.

"Strike one!"

Sivok turned his head and wondered what the technicalities of the 'strike' were, now regretting not looking up the rules to the event before coming.

"Strike two!"

He glanced over at Matteson, who was watching with disinterest she was attempting to hide. Perhaps if he had a better understanding of the events around him they could at least engage in conversation.

"Strike three! You're out!"

He raised an eyebrow at the field-level announcers exaggerated phrasing and motions, which were consistent from the first section of the game.

"How many innings are there?" He leaned towards her and tested the word.

"Eh, nine, I think." She carefully scooped the cheese onto her nacho and placed it in her mouth, not even looking up to see who the next batter was.

Sivok sighed. Perhaps he should have asked Matteson if the game interested her before inviting her.

"We've got Suzanne Dillon up next to bat." The announcer called into the stadium, and Sivok watched the secluded area.

"Huh?" Matteson suddenly looked up, and smiled as a middle-aged human woman approached the area designated for batting activity.

She looked over at Sivok with a smile on her face. "Commander Dillon was my favorite science professor at the Academy. She had taken a posting, but it looks like she's back…"

Having watched many humans who were barely more than children struggle in the game, Sivok wondered if a woman in her middle years could accomplish her objectives.

Suddenly Tilk's movement caught his eye, projected onto the large screen. The young Vulcan had leaned against the fencing of the secluded area to watch his teammate play. Chambal also emerged from the shadow in the same uniform, and leaned next to him. They both glanced at each other, and she smiled, before the screen switched to the other team's area.

Sivok suppressed the feeling in his chest at watching their exchange, seemingly so intimate and yet so public. He looked over at Matteson, whose previously bored posture had perked up at her old instructor.

"Strike one!" He ignored the field and watched Matteson with interest as she balanced her nachos on her lap and stretched up to see better. Surely the fraction of centimeter such an action lifted her did not improve her vision of the game?

"Strike two!"

She sighed, frowning and fidgeting in her seat, causing him to wonder why he brought her here. She clearly wasn't enjoying it and wasn't paying any attention to him, and the once instance she was interested was making her upset.

"Time out!"

Tilk had recommended taking her to 'various recreational activities' in order to better gain her trust. The museum had been a disaster from her perspective, although Sivok still wasn't entirely sure what he had done wrong. He had spoken the truth; how could that be a crime?

But the aftermath had almost ended their acquaintance, and he wasn't willing to test it again. But if this game was also a failure, what else could he do? Sivok decided not to make the mistake of not fully researching their events again, and would put more effort into his next attempt.

After all, it was only logical to strengthen the working relationship with the one human he could tolerate. Lost in his thoughts, he realized he had been staring at her. She glanced in his direction and shifted and he quickly looked down to the floor, but not before catching her smile slightly from the corner of his eye.

What was she thinking? When she watched him closely, what was she considering? When she hesitated too long, what was holding her back? Surely she wasn't afraid of him, as the girl from the stands had been earlier.

If only he knew her true thoughts, perhaps this would all be easier.

Suddenly the crowd erupted into screaming around him, and people suddenly stood up from their seats. Matteson joined in and he stood along with her.

"Are you alright?" He grabbed her arm, and she turned towards him at the same time, and he was confused by the smile on her face.

Realizing his error, he jerked his hand away and backed up, flipping the nachos she had hastily picked up as she stood out of her hand and into his, upside down, in the process.

He clamped his eyes shut. How could this keep happening?

She laughed. "You and food today!" She took the upended nachos from him, and he looked down at the yellow liquid substance on his hands. His eyes widened as he heard her crunch, having lifted a chip from the top of the pile and stuck into her mouth.

She had just eaten food from his hands. With her hands. He had to keep his mouth from falling open.

"They still taste good." She finished he bite and cheered some more, and he finally looked at the field. The human woman had apparently hit the ball out of the confines of the park, and was running around the white squares nestled into the dirt.

The screen changed. "SOCRATES, 1; COMMANDERS, 0."

He observed the shift with curiosity, and they both sat back down on the bleachers. Suddenly, she froze. "Sivok, does this count as sharing a meal?"

He shifted and didn't reply.

"Oh Sivok, I'm so sorry. I can throw them away."

"It is of no consequence. The incident was my fault." He murmured, hardly believing his own words. What was done was done and he couldn't bring himself to attempt to reverse it.

"Well, alright." She looked over him concerned, but went back to watching the game, now with more interest than before. He was struck again with her tolerance for him and his culture, as no other human seemed to care.

He steadied himself and focused his thoughts on the game in front of him. If she would cater to him with such dedication, he would attempt the same for her.

The innings passed, with Tilk still 'holding' the other team at zero and the The Socrates scoring another two runs, bring it to 3-0.

He had kept a close eye on Matteson throughout the event, and her interest had waxed and waned. He attempted to keep her engaged by positing questions and scenarios, some of which she could answer. He was watching her when she suddenly winced.

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt."

He looked over the field, and noticed a player kneeling down to the ground, with a Starfleet medical student attending him.

The reply began on screen and he watched Tilk, who was still pitching in the 9th inning, throw the ball in the same style as always.

The ball went directly over the base, but the batter was stupidly standing far onto the white square, causing it to collide with his leg. Sivok was confused as the pitcher hobbled to the first base. He hadn't hit the ball, why was he allowed to advance?

Another batter went up, and Sivok was mildly surprised when the crowd erupted in cheering, the third time in the game when Tilk was pitching, in comparison to the many hits the Socrates had gotten, three of which became runs.

The batter had hit the ball down the line, and those on base were scrambling to catch it. But by the time it returned, the batter had advanced to first base. The next approached.

"Strike one!"

Tilk struck out two consecutive batters and the announcer predicted their victory. Sivok watched as the final batter approached the plate and steadied himself. He seemed in better physical condition than some of the older instructors.

The same events transpired again, with the ball going up the white line and each of the previous individuals on the bases advancing. Sivok watched as Tilk threw a slightly annoyed glance to the catcher, who grunted and looked away.

Were they communicating somehow throughout the game? Sivok had noticed their hand motions but wasn't sure of their significance.

"Bottom of the 9th with the bases loaded, anything can happen folks…" The announcer drolled and Matteson shifted, seemingly more interested at the increase in activity.

"They're calling in a substitution…" Sivok heard the announcer explain, and he leaned towards Matteson.

"Are you enjoying this activity?"

She smiled. "Since when do you care about enjoyment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I do not. I am only interested in your status."

"Why?" Her grinned widened.

"I am doing… research."

"Ahh."

"I am serious. I am interested in improving our working dynamics. Enjoyment is important to humans, and as you are human, it a factor I must take into consideration."

"I see." She grinned and he attempted to suppress the confusion that rose in his chest. She didn't seem to believe him, but what did she think his true motivations were? He was telling the truth.

"Well, I am enjoying it. Sports aren't really my thing, but hanging out with you has been great. Besides, watching you dump food on yourself three times and eat popcorn with a spoon has been the highlight of my month when it comes to entertainment."

She lightly touched his arm and he looked away quickly, and she laughed. "I'm not making fun of you, Sivok."

He nodded curtly and looked forward, secretly pleased he had been the 'highlight of her month' in such a way, if not perhaps pleased with the means it was accomplished.

Analyzing the game in his head, he realized she was correct: she had been more engaged with him than the game, and something about his revelation gave him a deep sense of satisfaction he tried to ignore.

The announcer began again. "Here we go. He's one of the Academy's collegiate team's star batters, but was out for injury due the training incident. However he's feeling good and considering the stakes with the bases loaded, they're putting him in as substitute batter... here's Cadet Christopher Pike."

Sivok felt his chest constrict. The meddlesome and obnoxious cadet was involved in the event as well? He watched the smug blond cross the field and nod to Tilk, who nodded back.

"We've also got a replacement catcher. This is Ensign Peterson, who is new on the team for this season, catching with Tilk."

Matteson leaned forward, brushing against his arm. The warmth that seeped even through her clothing distracted him from his annoyance with the cadet, but the negative feelings returned when he noticed her broad smile at Pike's new status in the game.

He took in a sharp breath and stared ahead, closing his eyes and controlling his sudden influx of emotions.

"Strike one!"

Excellent.

"Strike two!"

Sivok felt his heart speed up, waiting to hear the two words once more.

The crowd began to chant Pike! Pike! Pike! Pike! He clenched his jaw. Why?

He heard the crack of the bat as the ball met it, and the entire crowd began to stand and scream. He watched as Matteson leapt to her feet, and instinctively his arm shot out and he pulled her back to the bleachers. Her stern look caused him to pull his arm back and look away.

"That ball is still in play, they're chasing it in the outfield…" The announcer explained and he watched the players run in circles, seemingly unable to catch the ball as it rolled. He shut his eyes. Humans.

The third player on base rounded the corner, evening the score. It all came down to if the insufferable cadet could make it back to home. Sivok suddenly felt involved in the game, wishing to hear the umpire yell "Out!"

He wondered if this was how the humans felt with each play. If so, considering how they chased emotion, it made sense why they enjoyed these sports so much.

Matteson continued to cheer for Pike with the rest of the crowd, perhaps more calmly as she continued to cast glances in his direction. Something about his glare seemed to be preventing her from expressing too much enthusiasm for his rival.

Sivok jolted at the thought and looked away. Rival? Pike wasn't his rival for anything. Pike did interfere in his work far too often, and he was merely a human child. He wasn't a rival.

Matteson sat back down and clapped nervously, now more focused on Sivok and his odd behavior.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded and looked back towards the field. Pike passed third and closed on home, and the ball rolled down back towards the pitcher's mound. Sivok felt his breath quicken as Tilk reached down and grabbed the ball, and Sivok's physics knowledge immediately calculated the ball would reach home before Pike did. He felt a small thrill that shamed him.

Tilk quickly grabbed the ball and threw with his full force, but faltered, seemingly noticing a mistake a fraction of a second too late. The ball spiraled towards the newly replaced human catcher and Sivok saw the human catch it and drop it.

"Ahh!" the young human shrieked, jerking up his hand. The ball rolled on the ground and Pike hit home.

"Safe!"

Sivok looked at the "home plate," where the human catcher was now holding his hand and yelling at Tilk. The crowd screamed and Matteson cheered along, as the scoreboard adjusted from 3-0 to 3-4, giving the first game of their season to The Commanders.

"The Commanders win! Let's see what happens next week when they face off gain in Starfleet's Recreational Intramural Program. We've got another 12 games between the teams this summer..."

Sivok leaned back and glowered as Matteson continued to cheer.

"Now let's talk about what happened down there." The announcer questioned, seemingly surprised. "Woah, look at that. Tilk clocked that ball at 191 KPH! Looks like the new catcher couldn't handle it!"

Sivok inhaled deeply, trying to temper his annoyance at the turn of events.

The entire outing had gone poorly. She hadn't been interested in the game, he was covered in food, he had non-consensual telepathic contact with a random human woman, and she had gone from being engaged with him to being far more enthralled with Cadet Pike, of all the people.

She turned and smiled at him. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded briskly and stood, and they both darted away from the small stadium, leaving the Academy grounds and out onto the sidewalks of San Francisco.

"I'm going to head home." Matteson commented.

"I intend on going to work."

She laughed. "You always work."

"It is logical to do use my time to productive pursuits. Besides, the same could be said of you. I have noticed your working schedule-"

"Ah, stalking me once again," she joked.

"Don't you want to change your clothes?"

"Yes. I am going to do so now. That is why I am walking in this direction."

"I see. What did you think of the game?"

He said nothing in reply and she frowned. "Right. Me too."

"You seemed pleased at the end."

She shrugged. "I don't know much about baseball, but I know a grand slam in the bottom of the 9th to win is a big deal."

"Grand slam?"

"What Pike did."

He stiffened slightly at the mention of the cadet, and she sighed. "I know you two don't like each other…"

"I neither like nor dislike him."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I just-" She paused and frowned, looking up at the sky as the rain started to come down.

Sivok looked to the sky as well and wanted to groan as it quickly intensified. They dashed to cover and watched the rain in silence until she started to laugh. He tilted his head in question.

"It just keeps getting better."

"I hardly see how-"

"Sarcasm, Sivok. Anyhow, should we do this again? My apartment is right there."

She motioned her head across the street, past the intersection they had just reached. They were now a kilometer from the Academy.

He felt extremely reluctant, but glanced back to the rain and agreed to go.

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Alone, Sivok studied her small apartment once again. Her carnivorous plants were still covering the large table near the window, but the other table near the narrow kitchen was no longer littered with PADDs, but tubes and bags of sand.

He walked over towards the tubes and studied the strange mechanism. He knew it had nothing to do with the PODs but he didn't recognize the configuration.

He turned as he heard the door shut again in the back room, and Matteson plodded down the hallway, still in her wet casual wear.

"Here's my brother's spare clothes. I've washed them since you left."

"It has been months. I would assume so."

She chuckled and shook her head.

"However, I continue to appreciate your hospitality," he added.

She set the clothing down on the table and tossed the towel over his head, leaning up and ruffling it. He leaned his head forward and she smiled.

"I can hardly believe you let me get this close. I moved to dry you off last time, and you acted as if I was going to stab you."

He didn't reply and she pulled the towel down, and burst out laughing at the sight. He quickly moved up to smooth his hair back into his precise bob.

"Don't! You look more handsome this way." He felt paralyzed as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair, brushing it off to the side and pulling the bangs back, careful not to touch the skin on his forehead.

She smiled at the various designs she was combing in with her fingers, and he allowed it for a moment, but then moved back. She dropped her hands, looking disappointed.

"I must go change." He quickly turned and sped down the hall, eager to get away from their close encounter. Why had he just allowed that? Serious meditation was in order, though it always seemed to do little in regards to Matteson. But what could be done about it? Something had to change, and he wasn't referring to his clothing.

Sivok's mind automatically supplied his time left on this planet and his time around her.

One year, six months, twenty-one days, and ten hours left.

Not trusting his emotional control and wanting to avoid a situation like the last time, he stayed in her bathroom until he heard her the door to her quarters open and shut. He waited thirty more seconds to be sure and then emerged, bracing himself for whatever she could be wearing.

Such precautions turned out to be unnecessary, as she was dressed in loose-fitting pants and a shirt that exposed part of her arms but covered everything else.

She was sitting on the couch looking out the window and into the rain, and he glanced back towards the table covered in tubes.

"What is this system?"

"Water pump and filtration."

He tilted his head. "Such a fixture is not included with the apartment?"

She chucked. "Of course. It's for my fish tank."

"Fish tank?"

"Yeah," she stood up from the couch. "Want to see it?"

He nodded and followed her down the hallway, through the door past the bathroom. It had a desk on one wall which had nothing on it, a small bed, and wall of shelves with baskets, and a large glass box full of water and aquatic creatures.

"Here it is - the fish tank!" She raised her arms in dramatic display.

"It is silent."

"That's because it's a silent model. But it's been acting up lately, so I'm switching out some of the components. That's what you saw on the table."

"I see." He leaned forward and looked at the fish, one of which swam towards him.

"They're saltwater. That's a tang."

He turned his head and studied the creature.

"Do they have fish tanks on Vulcans?"

"No. At least, not in the region I am from."

"I can imagine that."

He nodded and continued to watch the creatures swim, asking her questions about the various species and their diet, habitat, and behavior, feeling comfortable with the scientific nature of his questions.

"The name is still illogical. They are not humorous; that is their natural swimming pattern."

"Well, less like a natural pattern and more due to a lack of practice. They rarely leave the reef."

"They are still not humorous. I fail to see why they are 'clowns' due to the supposed humour of their swimming style."

"Sivok, if you're going to argue each little factor of something you just learned about, I won't be able to go to the aquarium and natural science museum with you."

She smiled and he turned his head. "I was unaware we had any such plans."

"We could, next weekend. I know you didn't have the best time today, and perhaps team sports isn't our thing."

She stepped closer and he shook his head in agreement. He had no wish to ever attend such an event again.

"And while our last museum outing went terribly, I think you inviting me to a baseball game and actually going without causing a fiasco shows you're ready to go back out in true public."

"I have been in public-"

"Yeah, but something about education in public seems to bring the worst out in you."

"I was a professor at the VSA for two seasons."

"I feel for your students. Anyhow, museums are a much better fit for our personality, and if you promise not to terrorize the staff or guides, I think we should go the natural sciences museum. It's more up our alley."

"Alley?"

"Spectrum of ability or interest."

He nodded and paused, deep in thought and considering their close encounter in the front room. At least they would be in public.

"You'll also get to see better fish." She grinned and he looked into her eyes. As he always had, from their very first encounter to right now, he agreed to her request.

"Very well."

She smiled even wider. "Do you want some tea?"

"I do not care for iced tea."

"Vulcan tea."

"I thought you did not care for Vulcan tea."

"I don't. I bought it for you."

He paused. "Why?"

"It was a birthday present."

"You do not know the day of my birth."

"I was going to ask."

"I would not have told you."

She sighed and walked over to the closet in the spare room, ruffling through a bag and pulling a Vulcan-style canister out.

"Then Merry Christmas."

He turned his head at her phrase. "Explain."

"It's a traditional phrase for giving gifts."

"I understood it as a holiday."

"It's both."

He paused. "What is the correct response to the traditional gift-giving phrasing?"

"Thank you."

"Thank. You."

She laughed at his mechanical delivery and handed him the tin.

"Make it how you like it. You know where the kitchen's at."

They both stood silently for a moment, and he considered the scenario. He was back in her apartment, except this time he would not sleep here. Besides, he could hear the rain was beginning to lighten.

He began to consider the ramifications of staying longer, but disregarded the thought and abruptly left the room.

"Sivok, I-" He stopped and turned back slowly towards her, but she clamped her mouth shut at the look on his face, however subtle it was, and looked down at her feet, showing no expression.

Once again, he wondered what she was thinking. Humans made their emotions so clear - why couldn't she do so when he needed to understand her status? Why did she wish to be around him so much? Why did he wish the same?

Perhaps he could not know her motivations, but he should know his. That he did not fully understand his own actions was unacceptable as a Vulcan, a grievance he resolved to himself, not for the first time, to correct in meditation.

One year, six months, twenty-one days, and nine hours left of his two years in San Francisco, and then such questions could bother him no longer.

"Nevermind," she murmured as he sped down the hallway towards the kitchen, glancing at the menacing plants on the opposite wall and water pump spread along the table, deciding this would be his last time in her apartment.

He passed the spot where they had been when she ran her fingers through his hair, and he refused to focus his eyes on that location as he rounded into the kitchen.

They could be colleagues who worked much of the day together, and they could attend various educational-recreational events and exhibits together to build a better working relationship, as humans required. But these moments of closeness, the light touches, the incidents with food were… intolerable. They were improper in every way, and knew they needed to end.

He would go to this museum with her and would then begin the process of distancing himself on a personal level. He tried to suppress the feeling in his chest at the thought.

What if she was hurt by his actions? What if she spent her spare time with the heinous Cadet as a result? What if-

He closed his eyes and centered his thoughts, beginning to work at suppressing the related emotions. She was human. None of those things mattered.

It did not matter. It did not matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needlessly Long Author's Note: For the record, some companies really do have adult baseball teams (and other sports) they take VERY seriously, with player stats and team shirts and rivalries and everything. They tend to be close knit but of reasonable size, and I figured Starfleet counted under that. Also I have a fan theory that Vulcans like baseball: see ENT 'Carbon Creek' and DS9 'Take Me Out To The Holosuite', which also happen to be two of my favorite Vulcan-episodes ever. The Vulcan pitcher in DS9 is what I imagine Tilk looking like, by the way.
> 
> I'm sorry for the long delay! I had to go on an unexpected trip multiple states away and drag stuff back from a warehouse for my engineering work. It was a very long trip, but I managed to get a good amount of writing ahead done in the car. However, I actually had to work on the trip as well, so I haven't been replying to PMs (or even emails, for that matter). I'll try to get caught up with both reviewing and replying within the next few days, and get the new chapter edited and out.
> 
> Big thanks to TomFooleryPrime for cleaning up my messy first drafts! If you haven't read everything they've ever written - which is an amazing amount is such a short period - you should go do so. 
> 
> Please review! I love reading your messages, and it's interactive, many of your comments end up in the next chapters. :-)


	12. Chapter 12

Sivok read the sign mounted to the door aloud, and tilted his head towards Matteson in question.

"Yep. It's as close to the animals as you can get."

Sivok shifted, and looked slightly concerned. "You would touch non-domesticated animals?"

"Sure. In this environment, at least."

"And if you are poisoned or attacked?"

She looked confused, but a smile slowly spread over her face. "Is most everything on Vulcan poisonous?"

"It is a volatile and intense environment."

"Just like the people used to be."

"Precisely."

"I see. Well, there are many dangerous animals on Earth, and some are poisonous. Most humans are taught from a young age to never approach or touch a wild or stray animal. However, the animals in the touch and feel exhibits are safe."

He still looked cautious, but nodded as he followed her into the natural sciences center. They entered a large circular area with a skeleton mounted overhead, and he looked over the various corridors that were marked with different topics.

"It says the aquarium is closed for the next hour for setup." Matteson pointed to the rope and sign blocking the opening to the aquatic displays.

She shrugged and turned back towards Sivok. "I guess we'll start with something else. Oh! Butterfly house. Let's go there."

He nodded and followed her through the door, which immediately led to another door, which immediately led to another door. Sivok looked around at his surroundings, confused.

"Welcome to the butterflies," the attendant greeted. "Remember not to touch their wings." Another couple came out through the final door in front of them and the attendant turned his attention to checking them for butterfly hitchhikers.

Sivok had a basic textbook understanding of the Rhopalocera clade, but considering his limited time outdoors on Earth, he had never witnessed one of the brightly colored insects in person.

They stepped through the final door and into a large room of white glass panels full of plants and small trees, divided by stone paths with various couples and families roaming them and looking into the bushes.

"There's one." Matteson exclaimed and walked over to a nearby branch with Sivok following closely behind. They both leaned in to look at the insect.

"I could probably recognize about five different butterflies by name, but I have no idea what this one is called."

"Surely you learned it in your primary education. Have you forgotten?"

She glared at his accusation. "Well, I learned some of them. But this is hardly my speciality, and Earth has a lot of different animals to learn all of the sub-types."

He dropped his head. "I apologize."

She smiled. "I'm not offended Sivok. Here." She bent down to the ground, and slowly extended her index finger towards the butterfly, gently tapping on its underbelly and front legs.

"I do not believe you should handle wild animals. It still could be dangerous."

She snorted. "It's a butterfly. In a public exhibit, meant to be walked through and interacted with. It's perfectly safe."

He released his hand and stepped back, still unsure. A Vulcan would never handle a wild animal in such a way, as most species that did not carry poison could still be extremely dangerous.

Once again, he was reminded all too vividly that Matteson wasn't a Vulcan. Something he had spent a significant portion of the last week in meditation reminding himself.

He studied her deliberate hand position. "Where did you learn to hold it in such a way?"

"At a zoo, when I was a child. Back in Sweden."

He tilted his head. "You are not from this continent?"

"Not originally, but that's not important." She leaned back up with the bright blue butterfly resting on her finger, flapping its wings slowly.

"You want to hold her?"

He paused. "How do you know its gender?"

"I don't. It's a blind guess. But come on. Try it. Biology is one of your million degrees, right? This is a biological organism."

"I do not have a million-"

"Sivok. Just hold the butterfly."

He quieted and examined the insect. "You are confident there are no sub-species that are poisonous?"

"Not here. Why would the organizers allow it? That would be a huge oversight."

He quickly replied without thinking. "As they are human organizers, such a reckless mistake would be expected."

As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he made a critical error, the first in months. He dropped his head.

While his views of this planet may have relaxed slightly, they hadn't really changed in any measureable way. He had just, as Matteson had phrased it so many times, learned to keep his mouth shut. He dared a glance to her face and winced ever so slightly. She looked hurt.

"Sivok, I thought you-" She frowned and went silent, looking at the butterfly still resting on her finger.

"You know what, this was a bad idea. You've been in a terrible mood all morning. All week, for that matter. Something about museums really does bring the worst out in you. Maybe we just need to stop spending time together for now outside of work."

Sivok's internal state instantly splintered. She was basically suggesting exactly what he wanted and had been considering all week in his attempts to untangle them on a personal level and regain a greater sense of control in his life.

She was offering to end their outings outside of work, which was what he had desperately desired just moments ago.

But now that he was facing it, it was unacceptable. If Tilk could build a close relationship of trust with a human as incomprehensible as Miss Chambal, he could do so with Matteson.

He would do so. And his disciplines would be sufficient to control himself and limit their inappropriate interactions, he simply needed to meditate more and focus more of his attention on the issue.

He saw her frown deeply at his silence and lean to put the butterfly back down, and presumably leave after she did so. Leave him.

"I apologize for my behavior. I am undergoing an intensive meditation routine at present."

She paused and looked over his face, silent. Then she sighed and relented. "I understand. Everyone goes through rough patches sometimes. We can come back another day."

"No," he blurted out suddenly, "we can continue today." She looked unconvinced and he glanced down at the butterfly still perched on her finger and said the only thing that came to mind.

"May I hold it?"

She looked contemplative for a moment, but then smiled. "Put your finger out."

His relief at her evident forgiveness dissipated and was replaced by an intense nervousness he struggled to control. Holding a wild animal was the least of his problems now: the action they were about to undertake was far more concerning.

While she was extending one finger instead of two, and there was a practical purpose to the gesture, it was all too similar to the Vulcan touch between mates.

If he took the wild creature from her, for the first time in nearly six months their skin would touch, finger to finger no less. Could he really tax his control with such an event? Even if it would ensure his previous error was forgotten?

She started to notice his hesitation and the concerned look returned to her face for a split second, and then he caved. Whatever it took to maintain her trust seemed logical in that moment.

He braced his telepathic shields and extended his finger, diverting the bulk of his mental capacities to suppressing his reaction to the skin-to-skin touch.

Time seemed to slow as he slide his finger over hers, but his focused effort on suppressing his reaction to the touch seemed to work. The butterfly began to slowly step onto his digit, one miniature leg at a time.

He watched the creature, but looked up at Matteson when she lightly laughed and beamed at him. What was she laughing about? Why was she so happy? Was it the insect, his seemingly reformed behavior, their touch?

He stared into her eyes for a moment, and then looked back at the butterfly and was hit by a sudden wave of desire to find the answer to those questions and more.

The effort to block his reaction to the touch was interfering with his other suppressions, and a single thought emerged from the depths of subconscious: drop your telepathic shields and you will know her true thoughts and feelings.

Seemingly against his will, felt his shields begin to slide and he hastily picked his finger up, the butterfly flying away at his sudden movement.

"What? Sivok! What was that for?"

"I-" He trailed off and took a deep breath, pulling his hands in tightly to his side. He had almost just broken one his culture's most sacred laws: intentional telepathic contact must be consensual.

"Are you alright, Sivok?"

"I am not sure." He looked around the exhibit, the once high glass ceilings now feeling constricting. He took a deep breath. "We should continue to another part."

"Are you sure you don't need to just go home? Get some rest?"

Yes, that was exactly what he needed to do. But he wasn't ready to give up on his controls being strong enough to maintain their professional-personal relationship.

He had the distinct sense that if he left without resolving the issue, they would never be able to resume.

Resume what? He pushed the thought aside.

He tried to appear calm, and hoped she believed it. "Yes, perhaps the aquarium is back open."

She examined him nervously. "Alright, if you say so."

He nodded and started out of the butterfly house and back into the main area. He could do this. His controls were strong enough.

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Matteson followed Sivok out of the butterfly house and studied his face closely as the attendant walked around them and checked for butterflies that could be riding along.

What was wrong with him? He probably just needed to go home and meditate or whatever. She thought over his behavior of the past week; it had been erratic since they went to the baseball game.

He had taken to standing in public areas while checking his PADD, something done by many but typically not Sivok. Someone would start to move his way, and he would look up and walk towards them.

Usually they quickly spun around and scurried off, eager to avoid the notoriously grouchy and rude Vulcan. His attitude had improved recently, but the legacy of his previous behavior lingered and his general disposition was hardly approachable.

Then he would leave and do it again a few hours later. What was he doing? Did he actually want to talk to those people? It didn't seem that way; the few occasions they didn't run off he always walked right past them.

In her new hobby of watch Sivok terrify people in the hallway though the mess hall window, she had gotten to know Tilk a bit better, as he apparently had taken up the same activity and seemed more confused than she. He seemed very concerned about his boss, which was worrisome all on its own.

Tilk was nothing like Sivok. He seemed curious about others but not condescending, and had a calm but positive general ambiance about him. His whole demeanor was still very Vulcan, arguably more so than Sivok.

But there was a gentleness and sweetness to him that made him seem… young. And by Vulcan standards he was probably little more than a child. It made her wonder if Sivok had ever been so gentle in his youth, and calloused with age?

Thinking back to Sarvok, probably not. And besides, humans came in a variety of personalities and dispositions - clearly Vulcans did as well. The expectation of homogeneity imposed on their species was surely undeserved, though their diplomatic channels and official version of the story of their people did little to reject such a notion.

Matteson glanced at Sivok's face. It seemed troubled, but also very blank at the same time. Did that mean he was only slightly disturbed and wasn't suppressing it, or extremely disturbed and attempting to suppress it?

Matteson couldn't tell and was well aware he wasn't interesting in discussing his emotional states, now or ever.

Their examination ended and she followed him into the main area. The rope and sign that had restricted access to the aquarium was now gone, and they walked through the corridor at a staggering pace. He sped ahead of her and said nothing, which only caused her concern to grow. He had been giving her the cold shoulder for the last week and it had intensified into an extreme blizzard today. He'd even returned to his old human-bashing ways. Had he really improved, or was he just faking it?

But then suddenly, when she said that they should leave, the ice melted and he wanted to stay, to hold the butterfly, to keep touring the museum. Why the sudden mood swing? And now he was back to ignoring her.

Who knew Vulcans could be such a chore to keep emotionally satisfied.

They approached a tank of sea cucumbers, and the woman behind the display smiled. "Please wash your hands with the sonics. Soap can damage their nervous systems."

They both walked over to the large, trough-style tray with a long sonic fixture that stretched the entire white platform. She put her hands under the bar and the purple ray automatically activated and began to scrub her hands of microbial organisms, but Sivok stood behind her.

"There's plenty of room, Sivok."

He hesitated. "I will wait until you are completed."

She sighed audibly. He couldn't share a three meter-long sink with her? What was wrong their hands being in the same vicinity? She finished cleaning up and turned back towards him.

"It's all yours."

He nodded almost imperceptibly and activated the sonic, and she looked at the sea cucumber.

The attendant smiled. "They're very flexible; see these tiny holes? They can fit through them."

Matteson compared the hole to the sea cucumber. It was at least five times bigger than the opening.

"Sivok, look. The sea cucumbers can fit through." She pointed and Sivok studied it for a split second, nodded, and dropped his head down. He insisted on staying, but was uninterested in actually looking at anything. What was wrong with him?

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"Are you sure you're okay Sivok?"

He jerked his head back up. "Yes. What is the next exhibit?"

She thanked the attendant and walked with him towards the sting ray tank.

"Here we go. These are real sting rays. I swam with a colony once in Florida. They're awesome feeling, but you can't touch the barbs on their tails or they'll shock you."

She reached into the tank to pet one that had risen to the top, and Sivok quickly grabbed her arm and pulled it out. "I told you not to touch dangerous, wild animals!"

The intensity in his voice rose to the edge of acceptable for a Vulcan, and he looked down in surprise at his hand on her arm, and then jerked it away as if her skin was burning him.

Why had he touched her again? A deep concern began to sink into the pit of his stomach.

"We should continue to the next area." He said facing the wall, and she sighed.

"Please Sivok, tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."

"Nothing is wrong." He quickly walked to the next open case, and looked into it, searching for anything to distract her with. But there was nothing in the tank.

"He's hiding." The attendant behind the tank commented as she leaned over a cluster of rocks.

He hesitated, not wanting to engage the human but also needing to avoid dwelling on his behavior in relation to Matteson.

"What is it?"

"Incirrina octopus."

"Octopus?"

"Yes. They're invertebrates, with six arms and two legs. One of the most unique animals on Earth, completely different from anything else. They are extremely flexible, cunning, and intelligent, with complex short-term and long-term memory."

She glanced at his ears. "They also have blue blood, no skeleton, and three hearts. The closest thing to alien that lives naturally on Earth."

He raised an eyebrow and she continued. "But do you know what the coolest part is?"

"If I did, I would not be inquiring. My knowledge of Earth marine life is limited."

The attendant frowned. "Right. Anyhow, their intelligence is distributed through their tentacles."

He tilted his head, suddenly interested. "They have decentralized neurons?"

"Yes." She leaned back towards the cluster of rocks. "And a lot of personality. Frank here won't come out."

"Frank?"

"The name of the octopus. He's extremely asocial."

"Including with other octopuses? Octopi?"

"Octopodes, it's a Greek word. And yes. Perhaps more so."

Sivok leaned over the large tank and looked at the rock cluster. "I do not see it."

"He's camouflaging. Come out Frank..."

Suddenly, a part of the rock slowly started to shift, and eight tentacles spread under the so-called rock, two of them propelling Frank towards Sivok.

He tilted his head, the sight before him momentarily distracting him from his guilt.

"He appears to be...walking."

"Yes, that's why two of their tentacles are classified as legs. They can walk, crawl, and swim with something called a water jet."

As if on cue, the octopus suddenly shot across the tank and approached the edge, its eight tentacles sprawling out and around as it settled by the side, shifting from its rock-like camouflage into a light pink color.

Sivok looked down at the creature now inches away and the attendant laughed.

"Wow, he seems to like you! Many octopodes play favorites, they like some people and hate others for no apparent reason. Gertrude," she pointed to a large cream colored octopus in a tank on the opposing wall, "will water siphon one of the interns every time she sees him if she can, soaking him just for walking in the room!"

Sivok and the octopus stared at each other in silence, and a lone tentacle began to creep up the side of the cage.

"Go on, touch him. That's the point of the exhibit." The attendant encouraged and Sivok stiffened.

"I will not touch a wild animal."

"He can't hurt you, the only hard part of his body is his beak, which is in the tank. Besides, why come to a touch and feel display if you don't want to touch and feel?"

Sivok quickly glanced at Matteson, who was now standing at the other edge of the tank, watching with interest.

The attendant smiled knowingly. "Oh, I see."

"That's not it." Matteson interjected, and Sivok looked confused.

"Nobody cares anymore. I think it's great." The attendant babbled on with a smile.

Matteson balked. "No, really, we're not like that."

"You don't have to be ashamed, at least not here."

Matteson sighed and walked over to the edge of tank with Sivok. "Listen," she started but then dropped her head, looking at the octopus who moved towards her.

"Look, even Frank approves! Who knew he was such a progressive octopus..." The attendant clapped her hands together and smiled as Matteson groaned at the nosy attendant.

She gave up arguing and turned towards Sivok, who still did not understand the nature of the debate. "Will you freak out if I touch him?"

"I do not 'freak out' about anyth-"

"Whatever Sivok." She cut him off and dove her hand into the tank, and Frank slowly wrapped his tentacles around her arm, which was partially exposed due to the cut of her shirt.

She smiled. "Wow, I've never been this close to one." She laughed as Frank rotated his suction cups on her arm.

"Come on Sivok. Put your hand in. It's amazing."

He stiffened and backed away, shaking his head roughly. "He has distributed intelligence. It is possible that if we both touched him simultaneously it would initiate a light telepath link."

"Seriously!?" The attendant dove into their conversation. "You've got to try!"

His breathed in sharply. "Non-consensual telepathic contact is a great crime among my people."

Saying it outloud only increased his guilt from the incident earlier, and he was suddenly ready to leave, questioning his logic for staying in the first place.

"Sivok," Matteson began with a smile, "I don't care if you know my emotions, or thoughts for that matter. I have nothing to hide from you."

He paused for a long moment and replied breathlessly, "You do not understand what you are saying."

"No seriously, it's a bit of an odd ability, but I don't care." She looked down at Frank, who was still attached to her arm. "In fact, it might be a little easier if we knew how each other felt."

He slowly walked to the edge of the tank again and looked at the octopus. The sight of the wild animal holding onto Mattson was still alarming, and he had no desire to touch it either.

He closed his eyes. He was not a zoologist nor a healer, he had no obligation to study telepathic contact with such a creature further. He could simply include the new information in his report to the VSA. But he thought back to her words.

In fact, it might be a little easier if we knew how each other felt.

What did she mean by that? He paused for a long moment, and looked back down at Frank. She wanted him to telepathically link with her. And he wanted it too. He'd wanted to so badly he almost did so without her consent.

But he knew putting them both at risk in such away would be grossly irresponsible, and he knew linking with her, even though another creature, was not an option.

However, knowing her desire did relieve the guilt of his near transgression from earlier ever so slightly, even though logically he knew it shouldn't.

He relented, but only partially. "I will attempt it, but it must be alone."

The octopus stared at him, still wrapped around her, and the attendant walked to the other side and helped Matteson unstick herself from Frank's grabby arm. The aquatic creature crawled on the bottom of the tank towards him and shot back to the surface, lifting his tentacle and dangling the tip on the edge of the cage.

Sivok watched the suckers hanging over the edge rotate and grasp, and he slowly raised his hand and touched Frank's soft and slimy skin, and the tentacle gently coaxed his hand down into the tank.

Matteson had not reacted to the temperature, but the water was far too cold for Sivok. As soon as his skin broke the surface it sent chills down his spine.

He began to pull his hand back out, but 300 suction cups held on, which quickly tripled to 900 as Frank wrapped two more tentacles around his fingers.

As he had hypothesized, the distributed intelligence created a deeper link than touching an arm (or leg, he wasn't sure) typically would in an animal or humanoid.

As his skin adjusted to the cold water, he began to experience the perceptions of the octopus, suddenly open to a whole new world as he experienced what it was like to touch, see, taste, and think with the same appendage, and have eight of them to do so with.

The attendant was correct, this creature really was alien in comparison to the rest of Earth. Its intelligence was strange, acute, and substantial. It seemed at least as smart as a sehlat. It was not sentient, but was just as mentally capable as the larger, intelligent mammals of both Earth and Vulcan. He made a mental note to research any existing studies performed by VSA on this unique aquatic creature.

Sivok stayed locked with Frank as he experienced a bizarre journey through the bottom of Earth's ocean, told from the perspective of a shape shifting invertebre. Frank has been injured by a scientific boat off the coast of San Francisco while he was fishing on the reef, who then rescued him and brought him here for recovery. He longed to go back to the ocean, but had become attached to his keeper, the attendant who Sivok suddenly realized was standing nearby and watching them with great interest.

Frank's thought process on these complex topics was rudimentary in comparison to his own, but real all the same. Sivok felt an unexpected surge of kinsmanship with the octopus, and the process of empathizing with an aquatic invertebrate felt surreal.

Suddenly Sivok felt their link shift - something changed in their connection. He felt a shocking surge of betrayal towards Frank as he realized the octopus had extended a tentacle towards Matteson, who had grabbed onto it.

Frank tightened his suction grip on both of their hands, and Matteson laughed as her emotions spilled through the creature's distributed intelligence and into Sivok, and his marvel at the octopus and turmoil at his shameful behavior spread back to her before he could stop it.

Matteson, with the help of an octopus and his own psionic abilities, had just created a non-consensual telepathic link. Where he was the one who did not consent.

For the second time in two weeks, he had to keep his mouth from falling open. He went to pull his hand away, but Frank held on tighter. Sivok gave the octopus his customary death glare, and Frank rotated his suction cups around his hand in reply. He felt Matteson's amusement over his unspoken argument with an octopus, and he looked up and met her eyes.

She was happy to be there.

She was worried about him.

She cared about him deeply.

Their purely empathetic link did not allow her to know the source of his anguish, but he now knew the depth of her concern for him. As she realized his trouble stemmed from her, he felt her panic and guilt, and he reached his other hand into the tank and pulled Frank off of him, breaking the link.

He stepped away and took a deep breath.

"Sivok, what did I do to make you so upset?"

"I am not upset. And you have done me no ill." He quickly replied and dropped his head.

"It sure seems so." She reached into the tank and carefully removed Frank from her hand, and he turned a deep purple color in protest.

"No, it is I who have done wrong." He paused, having no desire to explain but was also unwilling to allow her to blame herself for his lack of control.

"You haven't done anything wrong."

"I almost did."

"Sivok," she put her hands on his arms, holding him in place, "it's illogical to beat yourself up over something you almost did. It's the resistance, not the temptation, that counts."

He exhaled sharply and she stayed silent for a moment. He knew he should break her grasp but couldn't find the energy to do it.

His father, Sarvok - they were right. His control was weak.

"Come on," she shifted her hand to his back and nodded to the attendant, who thankfully realized she should stay out their conversation and simply nodded back.

"If you didn't commit a crime, and didn't even plan to commit one, you aren't punished for it in the rule of law. We don't have thought crimes anymore, and I'm assuming Vulcan doesn't either. Don't punish yourself for a crime that never even happened. That's totally illogical."

"It displays an unacceptable gap in my emotional controls."

"You're stuck on a planet you don't know and with people you don't understand. That would stress anyone out, emotional controls or not, and you're not even Starfleet or a diplomat with years of training in living amongst other species. Give yourself some slack; I'm sure I wouldn't be doing as well on Vulcan."

He knew there was truth to her words, but she did not understand the whole scenario. He wasn't struggling in relation to Earth or humans: it was her in particular. Logically, he needed to sever their connection. But his control was insufficient to do so, and he was at a loss for what to do next.

Other Vulcans would have the control to fix this, but he did not.

"Please Sivok, I know it's related to me. What did you almost do?"

He looked around at the deserted area she had led them to, and then back in her eyes. She deserved to know.

"When you transferred the insect to me, I nearly dropped my telepathic shields, which would have allowed your thoughts to transfer. This is considered abusive behavior in Vulcan culture."

He closed his eyes, awaiting the reprimand that was sure to come, but she said nothing.

"Sivok," her voice was soft and he opened his eyes to find her smiling, "I don't have anything to hide from you."

She extended her palm towards him and he stared at it, and he repeated his words from moment ago. "You do not know what you are suggesting."

"I don't care. I told you, I want you to know how I feel. I'd like you to know how I feel in regards to you."

What did that mean? The pieces began to fall in place in Sivok's mind, and he made a sudden realization: she was just as confused about their dynamic as he was.

He squeezed his eyelids together even tighter and focused on his guilt, forcing it to slowly dissipate.

She was right, he had not actually committed the crime he was punishing himself for, and she had initiated a link between them without his consent, although she likely didn't understand that touching Frank would have such an effect. He opened his eyes and stared back at her still-outstretched hand, and after a moment of silence, she gave up and dropped it to her side.

"I don't know what this is either, but we'll figure it out. Together." She smiled and looked back up the hallway. "Do you want to go home?"

He glanced up at the signage. "I believe there is still one more exhibit to see."

She smiled and shook her head. "You're really determined to see this museum."

"I would not allow my behavior to limit another educational session."

She laughed and smiled even wider. "Alright. Geology is the last one in this building. We'll come see the other buildings another time."

He shook his head in agreement and followed her down secluded the hall she had led them to and back into the aquarium, and then out into the main area, glancing back at Frank, who had moved to the back of his tank and re-camouflaged himself.

Another couple had approached and the attendant was trying to coax him out again, with little success. He looked at the octopus and recalled the traditional phrase for receiving a gift on Earth from the previous week.

Thank. You.

He quickly memorized the touch and feel dates, determined to come back and visit his only other acquaintance on Earth once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I've finally gotten to combine two of my favorite obsessions: Vulcans and octopodes! Everything stated on Frank was correct to my knowledge, they really are the aliens of Earth. One day I'll write a fic where visiting aliens in the long distant past release their octopodes into the ocean. Next chapter is the rest of the museum, gardening, and Matteson gets to see Sivok's apartment! We're on the home stretch now to their relationship really shaping up.
> 
> HUGE thanks to TomFooleryPrime for editing this chapter super quickly and with such finesse, and for dealing with my extreme insecurity about the realism of this chapter. Besides their amazing beta skills, they also write fabulous Sarek / Amanda fics, which integrate continuity in with unmatched ease. You should go read them if you haven't already!
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who reviewed and kudo'd - I really appreciate all of your comments, and they really help me write faster!


	13. Chapter 13

The computer-generated graphics swirled on the glass before them as it presented a changing map of the region's topography; Sivok allowed his eyes to wander around the room.

How much longer must he stay?

It had been a draining two hours that had almost ended in disaster on multiple occasions, though her assurances had relaxed him considerably. He wanted to go home and meditate, but was unwilling to let Matteson think he couldn't make it through a single museum exhibit without causing problems and forcing them to leave early.

The presentation ended and Matteson turned back towards him, jolting him from his thoughts. "So what do you think?"

He stared back blankly.

"At their hypothetical question. I'm sure you can do lots of complex modeling in your head on it."

He had no idea what the question was.

"I….do not have sufficient data to make a conclusion."

She shrugged and nodded, and they turned the corner to the final display, which Sivok paid better attention to this time, unwilling to risk another 'question'.

As soon as the screen ended he broke for the exit, leaving Matteson trailing behind. "Slow down; there's still one more."

She pointed to a door that led outside labeled In The Garden. He suppressed his impulse to sigh and went to follow her.

"Sivok, we can leave early."

"No."

They walked out the door and onto a large stone platform with a slotted covering, with edible plants hanging from the structure and growing from the ground.

Each of the plants was labeled with its scientific and common name, and basic growing and care instructions. He looked a digital map of the continent separated into sections, each with different agriculture capacities.

"We're in the 22BD division." She touched San Francisco on the map, and the display changed to show a more detailed soil map and a list of growable plants.

She sighed. "When I was young, my mother had a kitchen garden. I would love to grow more of my own food."

"It is an admirable goal."

"You really think so?"

He nodded and she smiled. "You know, they actually have a multi-story community garden here."

He tilted his head in curiosity and she pointed to a another area of the pavilion. "It's part of their outreach for local agriculture. Come here."

He followed her to an area full of tables with boxes on them, with individuals and families and looking through the boxes and carrying them to a digital kiosk.

She approached a lift marked "Community Garden" and waited.

"There are ten mini-floors, and each has grow lights mounted to the ceiling. They had to stack it to justify the use of space - it's really quite clever."

He looked into a box. It was full of Earth vegetables, fruits, and grains. Each box seemed to contain a different combination of grown foodstuffs in different quantity.

"This is how you pay. Everyone who grows creates co-op boxes and they're sold to the public on an individual or subscription basis. You're supposed to give 10% of your harvest, and if you don't grow or give enough, you have to give up your plot."

He nodded and looked in another box. "What is this?"

She glanced at the vegetable. "Summer squash."

"And this?"

"Blackberries. Do you want me to try cooking for you again?"

He looked hesitant, and she laughed. "We could cook for each other, potluck style. We both bring larger dishes and take a serving out onto a separate plate, and then if we don't like it, we can always switch back to our own without breaking…"

"Propriety." He finished, and his lips thinned into a straight line. "Perhaps."

She smiled. "That's a start, I'm surprised you're willing to try at all."

He turned his head to the side and looked down to the ground. "Replicated food is…" He trailed off.

"I know. Let's go look at the gardens."

He followed her into the lift. They toured the first two garden floors, looking at the different growing techniques the citizens were using on their plots.

Finally, they re-entered the lift.

"I think those are so cool. I'd love to have one."

"The sign indicated there are availabilities."

"Yeah, but it's a lot of work for just me. I already have so many hobbies and so much to do at Starfleet… and I have this Vulcan co-worker who needs constant attention…" She smiled at him and he stiffened.

"I do not need attention."

"But you want it."

"No, I do not."

She smirked and strode out of the lift. "I think you do."

He went to argue as he followed her down the path, but paused when a co-op box on the back row caught his eye. "Wait."

He moved to the back and glanced in the box. He looked so surprised she joined him to see as well.

"I don't recognize any of those. That one looks like a zucchini, kind of."

"It is gespar."

"Gespar?"

"A Vulcan vegetable."

"Really? Here?"

"It is unexpected, though many off worlders eat this when on Vulcan. This, however, is sep'tak, which is not palatable to even many Vulcans." He looked around the area. "These boxes are for sale, correct?"

"Yeah."

He picked up the box and carried it to the kiosk, keying in his credit chip.

Denied.

He inserted it again.

Domestic credits only. Please convert your currency on the main-floor kiosk.

He glared at the screen as Matteson gently scooted him to the side, inserting her credit chip in the system.

Thank you for supporting the San Francisco Natural Sciences Center. Enjoy.

"Thank. You."

She laughed and put her chip back into her pocket. "You're welcome Sivok."

They moved from the kiosk and he dug through his newly purchased fresh Vulcan vegetables. These would be his first in six months, and he was eager to return to his home and finally eat non-replicated food.

But the box contained not only Vulcan food, but also Earth vegetables he didn't know. "Do you recognize these other plants?"

She glanced over them. "Lots of lentils, eggplant, onion, garlic, specialty rice." She picked up a bag full of smaller bags. "These are organic spices."

"Do you want them?"

She scrunched up her nose. "The onion and the garlic maybe, but these are the ingredients to Indian food." She paused, and a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Sivok, it's Vulcan food and Indian food. In the same box, a few miles from Starfleet Academy. I think we know who grew these."

He stared back at her, confused.

India was a continent on the other side of the planet, but many from the region resided there. And there were over one-hundred Vulcans in San Francisco between the embassy, Starfleet, and other scientific and domestic projects.

How could they know who grew these?

"Come on Sivok. We know there's one Vulcan-Indian couple in this ten-kilometer radius. I can't imagine there's two."

Couple? What was she referring to?

She sighed loudly. "Fine. You said many non-Vulcans like gespar?"

He nodded. "Well then, are you going to make me dinner with your vegetables?"

What? He suddenly realized she had purchased the food, and he may now be obligated to share a portion of it with her, but was unfamiliar with human food sharing customs.

He studied her lively eyes and happy smile. Their outing had not gone well for him and could even be classified as traumatic. But she seemed happy and had forgiven him of his previous transgressions.

Extending their interactions would be risky, as it created more opportunities for their dynamic to be strained by his unintentional insults. But she clearly wanted it, she had paid for the vegetables, and he intended on eating before meditating anyhow now that he had fresh gespar.

It seemed logical enough, and as he always did when it came to her requests, he acquiesced. "I… suppose."

She smiled broadly and he attempted to ignore the warmth that spread through his chest at the sight.

"Great! We'll talk about non-work things and hang out."

What? Hang from where?

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Matteson followed Sivok gingerly through the door to his apartment. It was pitch black, and even after he verbally ordered the lights on, the room was still barely lit.

"I apologize," he said as he crossed the room and touched the interior control panel, the backlight of the screen illuminating the outside of his face, "I was not expecting company, and I keep the lights in the main room set for meditation."

Matteson suddenly felt guilty, feeling as if she was introducing on his private space.

She had been joking about him cooking her dinner, though she had secretly harbored the hope he would accept. She had always wondered what his apartment looked like.

She could see the outline of a table in the low light and looked down at the floor as she stepped out of the entry way.

Is that pink carpet?

The lights intensified to maximum strength and Matteson threw her her hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself from laughing.

The room looked like it belonged to a 90-year old woman, and was adorned in purple textured walls last popular no less than forty years ago.

He carried his box into what she assumed was the kitchen. "I will begin to prepare the meal."

She nodded and continued to look around.

There wasn't a lot of furniture; the room was basically empty. But it did have an ugly olive green couch with a floral pattern. There opposite wall had a table and chairs, next to a shelf with PADDs.

The walls were covered in nails and hooks with nothing hanging on them, as if someone pulled objects from the walls but didn't bother to finish the job before renting it out.

The couch had clearly once been centered on the wall, but had been pushed up to the corner to make room for a low table covered in candles. The table also had a few piles of bound paper with images on the covers, and she assumed they were Vulcan books of some sort.

Her eyes focused on the one piece of decor: a plaque that looked like reddish tan clay. It had a single column of Vulcan script with detailed carving around the word, or perhaps it was a sentence, Matteson couldn't be sure.

It appeared to be a work of fine art. The cryptic script was accented by a detailed and multi-layered image of a Vulcan with some animal that Matteson didn't recognize, with soft colors imposed on the carving that resembled watercolors.

She was suddenly struck with the humor of the sight: the ugly outdated couch displayed under an intricate alien plaque. Two things that clearly didn't go together.

Like her and Sivok.

What was this… thing… they had? He wanted to spend time with her, but then seemed reluctant and even regretful when he did so.

She heard a beep on the internal control panel she knew was the indication of an automatic schedule beginning, and the lights dimmed themselves again.

Apparently Sivok liked it dark.

"Can I help you with anything, Sivok?" She called out, knowing his hearing would pick up her question clearly, even through the wall.

The door to the kitchen cracked open, "No."

She sighed and flopped down on the stiff, floral couch and waited.

Some time later the door flew open and Sivok appeared, carrying two round plates of food and balancing two bowls on his arms. He set them all down on the table and looked towards her.

"I see the lights have deactivated."

"Do you want me to turn them back up for you?"

"No," he replied a little too forcefully. "I will adjust it."

Why so sensitive about a thermostat?

He walked back to the main panel and the lights flicked back on. He held his finger on the panel as it beeped, indicating the automatic cycle had been deactivated.

"The lights should now remain on."

He disappeared back into the kitchen and brought out two glasses of water and placed them on the table, reordering the dishes he had already set down.

"End meal is completed."

She grinned and sat down at the table, looking over her gespar. He had combined two of the Vulcan vegetables from the box, but had not used the one he said was unpalatable to most.

Glancing up at the other two bowls, she bit down down at her tongue to keep from guffawing. He had prepared a bowl of popcorn and with a side of raw onions mixed with raw eggplant, including the skin of the onion and the end of the eggplant.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as he spooned a pile of popcorn onto his plate and stabbed it with the same fork-like instrument he always ate his lunch with.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is everything alright?"

She opened her mouth to explain, but the look on his face gave her pause.

He had calmed down so much from the hours earlier, when he was storming through the museum and people ten feet away scattered in every direction just from his presence, not that his face gave away much to the untrained eye.

Now he looked at peace, and seemed almost proud of his cooking. He had combined food from both of their cultures - well, Tilk and Chambal's cultures, who obviously maintained the plot - and had did so without breaking custom.

It was the effort that counted, after all. She decided to play along and not point out the problems with his cooking. It's not as though he would ever be cooking onions for anyone else, right?

He nodded and she took a bite of her gespar. It wasn't terrible, but it also wasn't great. She still smiled as she swallowed, confident she could eat the entire plate without problem.

"Thank you for dinner, Sivok."

"You purchased the supplies."

"But you cooked it."

He paused and loaded more gespar onto his fork-thing. "Then we both contributed to our end meal."

She smiled and nodded and they went back to eating in silence, until he picked up the onion with his utensil - skin still attached - and went to put it in his mouth.

"Uh, Sivok. Remember to take the outer layer off before you eat it." She demonstrated on her own onion, pushing it around her plate some more.

He did so and looked at her plate, tilting his head. "You do not like that dish?"

"Oh no, I love onions. It's just…." She looked at the hesitant look on his face and gave up. "Nothing. Like I said, I love onions." She cut a piece of the raw onion ring from her plate, and pulled of the skin before sticking it in her mouth.

Oh gosh, that's worse than the gespar...way worse….

She forced herself to swallow and gave him a thumbs up. He looked over her carefully, but then accepted her show and returned to his food.

She breathed out in relief and pushed the onion to the side of her plate, taking another bite of the gespar.

Tastes a lot better now.

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"So," Matteson began as she suspiciously pushed her eggplant around her plate. It was human food, why did she not seem to like it? "What did you think of the museum?"

He paused, weighing his options. While his personal experience at the museum was less than satisfactory, the facility itself was acceptable.

"The exhibits were educational and well-designed."

She smiled. "I'm glad you think so. What about the gardens?"

He tilted his head. "Gardening is a popular activity on Vulcan, as it reduces strain on the primary agriculture systems."

She nodded. "I wish everyone would garden. If each house in my building had just one edible plant - just one - we would produce thousands of kilograms a year of fresh produce. It's sad we don't."

"My understanding is that food replicators have largely replaced that requirement."

"True, but nobody really likes that stuff."

He couldn't argue with that, considering the eagerness he had purchased and prepared a fresh Vulcan vegetable earlier in that day.

"I would also prefer to consume fresh vegetation."

"Then why don't we get a garden plot together?"

He froze. "Excuse me?"

"We should get one of those open garden plots. We could split the work."

Sivok paused and put down his utensil. He already spent lunch with her daily, worked with her, and for the past two weekends had participated in non-work activities.

These had already stretched his control in regards to her to the absolute maximum, as the day's events had so vividly demonstrated. Could he really interact with her more?

But… the allure of a continuous supply of fresh Vulcan vegetables was tempting. There was no way of knowing when other co-op boxes from the unknown Vulcan would appear.

No. He couldn't risk further interactions with her. This was already plenty, too much in fact.

"I must decline."

She tilted her head. "Why?"

"I… do not have the time."

She nodded. "I understand. It was just a thought."

He went back to eating, grateful for her unemotional reaction to his rejection. He took another bite of the gespar. The fresh gespar.

He supposed he could get the plot on his own, but if he did not produce enough for the co-op, he would not be allowed continued access. Besides, he really was very busy with the project and did not have large amounts of spare time.

He glanced back up at her. Her schedule was less taxing, and she already had botanical experience, as demonstrated by her carnivorous plants. She stated her mother had done so as well.

Was his rejection really based on time commitments? He knew it wasn't. It was a purely emotional reason, fear over greater exposure to her. In fact, it was logical to share a plot with her, for reasons he had just analyzed.

He sighed lightly. "On further consideration, a shared plot would be advantageous."

She smiled broadly and any will he had to still change his mind melted away.

"Really?"

"Yes, it is logical."

She nodded. "Great! I'll fill out the paperwork this week. Do you want to start next Saturday?"

It would be third weekend together, and he could only hope it would go better than the last two.

"That is acceptable."

She smiled broadly at him and returned to her dinner, and they both ate in silence. When they were nearly finished with their meals, he noticed her staring at various things in his apartment.

"So, why did you pick this place?"

"This place?"

"Your apartment. Why this one?"

"A VSA assistant procured a furnished one-bedroom apartment near the embassy, as I requested. I did not personally select it."

She glanced down at the flooring, and back at him, and then nodded. He failed to see the significance of the lightly red colored fabric that was attached to the floor, but noticed her attention to it.

"Why near the embassy? This is pretty far from Starfleet Logistics."

"I anticipated working at the embassy."

Her eyebrows scrunched down. "Why? You knew it was a VSA-Starfleet joint project, right?"

"Of course," he began and ate the final bite of gespar, "I did not consider that the Vulcan Science Academy would ever ask me to work at the Starfleet labs among humans."

For the second time that day, he realized his true thoughts slipped to the surface. He dared a glance at her face, which was now blank.

Why did she always work so hard to conceal her emotions when he needed to know them, and display them so proudly when he did not?

"As in… with me."

He shifted in his chair, trying to squelch the panic rising in him as she visibly became upset, completely misinterpreting his words. "I did not realize I would be working with you."

"No kidding, you didn't know me. You just assumed I would be so useless that the VSA would never dare to stick you with me?"

"I did not assume anything."

She glared at him and dropped her fork onto the plate. "You assume everything about humans. You don't know anything. Tell me Sivok, are you trying at all to be less of a racist?"

He ignored her question and returned to her previous statement, desperate to get out of the trouble he was now in. "I consider myself fortunate to be stuck with you."

She stilled. "You do? How so?"

He recalled her words from earlier. "We'll figure this out, together." She had emphasized together, as a uniting phrase. Perhaps it would work on her as well.

"Together."

"Together? Sivok, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He was unsure what she thought he was saying and she still seemed upset, so he avoided the question, returning to defusing his previous thoughtless comments.

"Please consider my knowledge of humans was through a third party. Also, if I had received a logistics representative unlike you and more like Commander Jira, my concerns would have not been unfounded."

Her face calmed and he felt himself relax. She had always forgiven him in the past, this time would be no different.

A smile crept on her face and she leaned down her arm, which was propped up on the table. "So, you want to be stuck together?"

He tilted his head, not understanding her question but not wanting to argue with whatever he had said that was making her happy again. He didn't reply and she didn't seem to care, putting her hands in her hair and looking downwards, smiling broader.

"Wow, Sivok. I… you've given me a lot to think about." She looked back up at him and smiled, and through his relief he experienced a ripple of confusion.

His mistake had been more drastic than those in the past, a result of his lack of meditation after the events of the day, no doubt. But she had seemingly moved past the incident much faster and with less friction than any other.

Was she being more tolerant - even more so than she typically was - or was he missing something?

As he watched her stare at him and smile, he decided it didn't matter. She was content, and their dynamic was not at risk. Even after the tumultuous events of the past four hours, the status quo had been maintained and their working relationship would continue on as normal.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I like eating straight raw onions in the right context, but just taking a bite of a big chunk of raw, white onion? I've tried it a few times and it's NOT pleasant 99% of the time. Red onions are different however. The co-op boxes on community gardens as a form of payment are a real concept, though I am unsure if any have been built yet. By Sivok and Matteson's time I'm sure they'll exist. :-) As I'm sure you can tell, we're really now on the home stretch to their relationship starting to blossom, and I think we're almost to the 1/3 mark of the outline.
> 
> Thanks to TomFooleryPrime as always for editing this chapter so superbly even when super busy. If you haven't read their Sarek/Amanda series, which is almost complete and has an awesome sci-fi style plot that actually feels like Star Trek, you should do so. If you typically don't like S/A you should STILL do so.
> 
> Thanks for all of the kudos! I really appreciate it and they really do help me write faster.


	14. Chapter 14

_One month later..._

Matteson breezed through the doors of Logistics Command, smiling as Pike waved in greeting.

“What are you still doing here?” she teased the recent graduate.

“I’ve been assigned to the USS Olympus, but it’s still under construction. I’ve been ordered to remain here and continue to work logistics until I can assume my post as Ensign Christopher Pike.”

“That’s great! I'm sure you'll make lieutenant in no time.”

He grinned. “Let's hope I make captain in no time.”

“Ahhh. Are you ready for the conference?”

He sighed. “Almost. I’ve got dozens of shipments of supplies to process. Thousands of people. It’s a lot to coordinate for everyone involved.”

“I bet. The traffic is always crazy, I only walk the whole month it’s here. Well, do you have a status update on the rbS fluid shipment?

He tapped the console. “Nothing showing.”

“Hmmm. What about helpiod-type transistors? Any in stock?”

Pike raised an eyebrow. “What would you need those for?”

“I'm helping Sivok on the adaptable manufacturing transference relay.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re _always_ with Doctor Sivok.”

“We work together closely.”

Pike snorted. “You also eat together closely, walk together closely, and go places together closely. You even leave together closely closely. If I may speak openly, what do you see in him? He’s a massive jerk, and literally nobody but you and his Vulcan assistant will talk to him.”

She glared at him. “We have a community garden plot; we go there after work. And that’s because they don’t know him. He’s a Vulcan - he isn’t going to show his emotions.”

He sighed heavily. “Nobody wants him to show his emotions. This has nothing to do with his emotions, this is his personality and dislike for everyone and everything that isn’t Vulcan.”

She narrowed her eyes at Pike. _What did she in Sivok?_ His intelligence, his nuanced and complex personality, his mental discipline, his professional competence, his purposeful demeanour. Sure, he used to be a jerk and was still rude sometimes, but there were major cultural differences at play. She had been asked what she saw in Sivok by no less than ten people and their lack of tolerance was becoming far more annoying that Sivok’s behavior.

He tilted his head and sighed loudly. “Except for you, Cecilia. He’s outright rude to everyone else. You’re the only one he seems to tolerate.”

Her breath caught in her throat at his observation. _But did he have anything more than tolerance towards her?_ The month before, right before they got their garden plot, he had insinuated he had some interest, but then never took any further action.

She had hinted and hinted, but he always seemed confused. She had taken to running her hands over his shoulders and had even leaned against his arms on a transport. Sometimes he moved away or brushed her off, but other times he allowed the touch and simply stared at her, saying nothing.

_Those instances had given her hope._

She had plotted out asking him directly or attempting to hold his hand on numerous occasions, but had always chickened out in the moment. He was just getting truly comfortable with her, why risk it for instant gratification?

_“He’s a Vulcan, he isn’t going to show his emotions.”_

She had told herself that hundreds of times over the last month, and saying it outloud to Pike reinforced her belief.

If Sivok was interested in her, being attracted to an alien would be disorienting for someone from a race so internally focused and proud of their ability to repress their emotions, such as attraction. Adapting to _feelings_ on the matter and being willing to discuss or show them to her was surely a process that would take time, and she just needed to be more patient.

_Be patient. Be patient. Be patient._

Both with slow Vulcan love interests and nosey Starfleet personnel.

She forced herself to smile at Pike. “He _tolerates_ me because I treat him like a person and not an emotionless robot. If the rest of you attempted the same, you would see what I see in him. Congratulations on your posting, Ensign.”

He dropped his head and she briskly walked out of the room, satisfied with herself. She had once accused Sivok of being racist, which he sometimes was.

But her human colleagues’ blanket misconceptions of Vulcans and their unwillingness to look past Sivok’s early mistakes was just as discriminatory. If they called themselves Starfleet and prided themselves on working for the Federation, why were they unwilling to be tolerant of cultural differences?

_“I did not consider that the Vulcan Science Academy would ever ask me to work at the Starfleet labs among humans.”_

The memory from the month prior suddenly resurfaced and she frowned as she entered the lift. He had defended himself by saying he could have had another Jira as his logistics rep, and then his concerns would have been justified. And he was right, Matteson was all too aware of the many intolerant and bigoted humans that still existed.

She hadn’t given much thought to his ‘slips ups’ at the museum over the last month because she’d been too focused on measuring his potential affection for her.

_“He’s outright rude to everyone else.”_

Was Pike right? Did Sivok still treat others with his original attitude? Or a lesser but still present version? She realized she had no idea: she avoided getting sucked into conversations about Sivok with others such dedication. But Pike was also predisposed with unusual intensity to disliking Sivok, and vice-versa. Surely he was an isolated occurrence.

She shook her head as she finally stepped into the privacy of her lab and picked up a PADD to review. Sivok was working on reforming his behavior and she would support him, and if anyone else didn’t like it, they could kick a stump.

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Sivok narrowed his eyes as the human sped out the door of the lab, his uniform coat thrown casually over his shoulder and his PADDs tucked in a bag in his hand.

It was 1704 hours. Four minutes past Lt. Smite’s requirement to work.

The lieutenant had been assigned as Sivok’s new manufacturing representative three weeks prior as a replacement for Jira. Every day the human had arrived at the exact minimum time, took his complete mid-day meal break, and left at the earliest allowed time.

His lack of work ethic was beginning to truly annoy Sivok. _How could a species who needed so much rest accomplish so much technologically?_ The mystery of how humans managed to achieve anything had baffled Vulcans for centuries, and Sivok marveled at watching it first hand.

Except for Matteson, of course, who always worked a respectable quantity of hours at a reasonable pace. Perhaps individuals such as she drove the performance of the planet forward, since he was confident humans such as Lt. Smite made no meaningful contributions.

Were there others like Matteson? Probably, but Sivok doubted they comprised any substantial number. He would admit humans were less barbaric than he had originally assumed, especially considering they were Starfleet, but they were also less organized and more confusing than he had ever imagined.

For the past 34 days he’d continued his experiments on human fear in the building’s common areas, and was certain he’d collected a sufficient quantity of data by now. The trouble was how to interpret the results.

Typically, humans shied away at his approach. Others made no eye contact and swerved slightly around him. The the final group visibly frowned or narrowed their eyes at him, a human indication they did not wish to be engaged.

He could tell they were avoiding him and proposed two logical explanations as to why: the humans were adverse to him personally, or to his entire species. The former was illogical as they did not sufficiently know him on an individual basis to form an opinion, which seemed to indicate the latter - what Matteson had called racism.

But he had additional data that counteracted that, as they did not appear to be share the same reaction to other Vulcans. Most of the humans often stopped to wave or smile at Tilk, and other Vulcans often received a cordial reaction, even those who had just arrived.

So the humans were afraid or harbored dislike towards him on an individual basis, but he’d never personally interacted with the majority of those on whom he’d collected data.

Were their conclusions really based on pure conjecture? _Rumor?_ If so, Sivok questioned why he bothered attempting to understand them at all.

Sivok leaned forward and flipped through his PADDs, clicking one open to determine what Smite had actually completed. The adaptable manufacturing was now partially re-configured for the compound, a process that was really only necessary for complex and experimental biological systems.

Replicators could now handle most needs on starships, but they could only handle a limited amount of biomolecular complexity, especially for living biological organisms. Additionally, most remote or less-developed areas did not have complete replicator access.

The manufacturing of these materials still fell to the now-legacy adaptable manufacturing systems, which were fed by naturally occurring raw materials and used a combination of twenty-eight modification processes to create millions of possible materials.

There were 297 raw materials kept in constant supply to the adaptable manufacturing system through an automated storage matrix and network of feed tubes, as well as 2,871 basic compounds that the flash replicator could inject on a moment's notice.

These materials, combined with the twenty-eight modification activities (such as heat, cool, blend, and separate) created 7.98742e+97 possibilities the adaptable manufacturing system could handle without any modifications.

It was a simple matter of entering the necessary codes to combine the materials and modification activities to manufacture the object in bulk, with no quantity minimums or restrictions. Which was why it was called _adaptable_. Unfortunately for Sivok, his compound wasn’t in those 7.98742e+97 of potential combinations. It required a level of molecular separation the current twenty-eight modifications could not complete, making it unprogrammable into the current system.

The compound would be so useful to medical personnel teams on deep space or remote assignments that Starfleet had requested the VSA oversee the process of adding a twenty-ninth modification to the San Francisco adaptable manufacturing planet, as well as the necessary logistics backbone to handle and ship it. He would also be requested at a non-Earth adaptable planet after his two years were up.

The process of adding such a function was extremely tedious, and he had spearheaded the bulk of the work. But he had to interface with someone Starfleet in order to modify one of their critical systems, and so far they had assigned completely useless humans to the task - vindictive in the case of Jira and incompetent in the case of Smite.

Why couldn't they give him someone like Matteson? He had once believed they were unwilling, but his experiments in the hall over the past month had suggested differently: such Starfleet personnel didn’t exist. _She was it._

Sivok had slowly developed the opinion that Matteson was more capable than her role required. What was an engineer such as herself doing working logistics?

She did not consider herself a scientist or an engineer but she often worked as one, even taking to working with him on the manufacturing modification after her normal work was done.

Their schedule was so intertwined: work logistics in the morning, lunch, work on manufacturing, garden, eat dinner from gardening, and then he would return to the office in the evenings and she would return to her home.

She often offered to come in and work with him after their end meal, but he insisted she needed to maintain her schedule and get sufficient sleep. He often accompanied her to the front door of her apartment to ensure she returned to her home and did not attempt to come back to the lab.

As their contact increased, his confusion over her increased exponentially. They would take transportation from Starfleet Logistics to their garden plot and she would initiate physical contact and make strange comments.

_Sivok watched the nightline of San Francisco whirl past them as they rode on the hover trolley down the street and towards her apartment, where he would visually ensure she went into her home and not back towards work, where he would return next._

_His eyes clamped shut and he struggled to control his reaction as he suddenly felt Matteson’s body press against his side and her arms wrap around him, rubbing her head on his shoulder._

_He opened his eyes and looked at her slowly. What was she doing? He knew that humans needed physical contact from birth. They could even become ill without it. He shut his eyes again._

_She was human and required touch, and he was her closest acquaintance. It was a simple and logical explanation. She had dedicated herself to growing Vulcan plants on their plot, ignoring his insistence she should be rewarded for her work as well._

_She had rejected the request, claiming she could purchase her native food everywhere, but he could not. He understood her logic but did not understand her motivation. He glanced down at the top of her head and resisted the urge to lean forward and smell her._

_He knew he needed to remove her from his person, but considering the continuous compromises and sacrifices she made for his cultural comfort… surely he could allow her necessity of touch to continue, if just for a moment._

_They trolley slowed at the stop before her home and she tilted her head up, still pressed against his arm. He stared back at her. “Will you come in, Sivok?”_

_He tilted his head, confused. “For what purpose?”_

_She frowned slightly. “I… well, I- have some tea you could try.” She looked deflated as she finished her sentence. He didn’t understand why and wished he could investigate the source of her discomfort._

_But he saw no motivation for entering her home at this hour, he had tea at the office, and she needed to rest and have her personal time, not interact with him further._

_“Please, Sivok? I just want to...talk.”_

_“We have had opportunity to talk all day, and will also have so tomorrow.”_

_She sighed and held onto his arm tighter. “I know. But I don’t mean talking about work or pH levels in soil. I mean personal things.”_

_“Vulcans are deeply private and I am unlikely to be of assistance in any personal dilemmas of yours. Also, I am not familiar nor comfortable with human reassurances.”_

_She dropped her head and sighed again. His eyebrows scrunched down, confused by her displeasure. He analyzed her need for physical contact along with her evident desire for personal counseling and realized she was had some sort of personal situation. Maybe she was overworked._

_“Do you need assistance, Matteson?”_

_She perked up slightly. “Assistance?”_

_“I do not wish to intervene in your personal life, as we are strictly colleagues. And my ability to provide emotional support is nearly nonexistent. But I will take on a portion of your work if you need additional time for reflection.”_

_Her face fell and she released his arm, leaning back into her own seat. He tried to ignore the coldness that swept over him._

_“Your way of providing assistance is to leave me alone?”_

_“Yes, though I understand that may be insufficient. Perhaps a human could better serve you.”_

_She dropped her head and the trolley came to a stop. “Yeah…”_

_Her face went blank as she stood and he recognized she was having a severe emotional reaction. He deeply respected her lack of display, but was also confused. Why was she so upset over his words? Or was her personal situation simply affecting her?_

_She smiled tightly and waved at him as she stepped off the trolley. “I’ll see you tomorrow."_

_He nodded and watched her leave, unable to shake the sense he was missing something. Perhaps meditation would reveal it._

He blinked and threw himself back into the PADD, suppressing the feelings that rose in him as he tried to push the memory aside.

For the past month she had made many such comments, and had attempted to initiate physical contact more often than usual. He was unsure what to make of her behavior.

Was it as he had postulated on the trolley, that whatever personal struggle she was facing was causing her to request additional support, and he happened to be the nearest individual?

Or was it something else? And if so, what was it?

Sivok closed his eyes and attempted to stop such thoughts. It was not productive; he had already decided that in meditation multiple times. He did not know her true thoughts and had no desire to go down that line of action again.

No amount of dwelling on her motivations would help. What he did need to resolve was his own unsettling reaction. Their interactions raised emotions in him he did not understand, reactions he had not been trained to repress by his father and mentors.

He went back to work until evening came. As his typical day began to end, he stood and walked down the hall, pressing his finger against the DNA scan of her lab’s door.

She had given him access, which was logical considering he continued to work late in the night and she was unavailable to clear his entrance. He walked over to the POD, leaned down, and plugged his PADD into it.

He glanced at the modification compartment, impressed once again at her work. This was not her field of expertise, and while her father had invented the coupling itself, it was less than ten percent of the final build. That had been her work, with Tilk’s assistance.

He focused his thoughts, running the program they had finished earlier that day. If the test was successful, the POD’s entire first phase of development would be complete and initialization could begin in the morning.

His thoughts drifted back to their interpersonal dynamic.

Their touches were becoming longer and when she broke them off, more painful. Resisting her attention was becoming more difficult, and he couldn’t understand why.

Meditation was bordering on useless on the matter, and returned no helpful explanation. He could break down their interactions logically dozens of times in a row and find no cause for his reaction.

Why? What was causing his emotional status towards her?

In meditation he had determined at last why he spent his time with her. She was tolerable, more tolerable than any human he had ever encountered. They worked well together, and as a general rule, got along well.

She seemed to have minimal interactions with other humans, often referring to herself as a loner. He also had no friendships or close acquaintances on Earth, or even on Vulcan for that matter.

His father’s strict rules and extremely demanding academic schedule had restricted his social interactions in his youth and he had never really made up for them as an adult.

In that, they complimented each other well. They were both serious about their hobbies, and had a dedication to their work beyond route activity: they wanted to save lives and make a real impact.

Their gardening was also pleasurable and her scientific approach to soil and care was refreshing. What could be wrong about their deeply entwined day? She was the least emotional human he had encountered and did not attempt to promote her ideologies to him.

He brought himself out of his musings and focused on the task at hand, uploading the final set of scripts to the POD and activating it.

“Estimated range of time to cycle completion is 1 hour to 7 hours.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Narrow window of estimation.”

“Unable to comply. There is no precedent for current script on this build.”

He breathed out, gazed at the computer, and then glanced up as the lights switched to night mode at 2400 hours automatically. He decided to return to his home and meditate, and would begin his work again at 0500 as usual.

The hours passed and he was roused from meditation when the PADD began to signal, indicating the POD cycle was complete. 0411, faster than he anticipated.

He completed his meditations before arriving sharply at 0500. When he entered, he noticed her lab lights had already been manually activated. Was she already there? Why?

He felt annoyance rise in his chest and tamped it. They had been through this many times; she required more rest than he. Why could she simply not accept this biological fact? He keyed himself into her lab and found her sitting around the POD, pulling out each node and hooking her PADD into it.

“Was the overnight cycle completed with full parameters accomplished?” He hovered behind her imposingly.

She glanced up at him and didn’t seem to notice. “Obviously Sivok. I know how to do my job.”

He slowly dropped to the ground next to her. “I am not questioning your abilities. But you must be tired and you are under your necessary requirement of sleep for your age, gender, and species.”

He rolled over his words carefully in his mind and decided to clarify to prevent any misunderstanding. “Mistakes due to exhaustion are possible in most species, including Vulcans, though it would take a Vulcan much longer to reach a critical state.”

She shrugged. “It would also take a human much longer to reach a critical state. A few hours of missed sleep on one night isn’t enough to make our brains turn to mush.”

He tilted his head at her comment and she returned to the initialization process.

“By the way,” she began not looking up, “my PADD is synced to all primary functions of this POD. When you set that synchronized alarm, it also set it on my mine.”

Sivok closed his eyes. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts when finishing the upload last night he had overlooked the detail that his actions would wake her as well.

He sighed. “I deeply apologize.” He looked over her carefully, attempting to determine the state of her infirmities due to his oversight. Her skin was slightly paler than normal and her eyes looked a bit less alert.

She turned towards him and raised an eyebrow at his inspection. “No problem Sivok. I wanted to work on this final stage one initialization anyhow.”

“You should be sleeping.”

She snorted. “Is that your medical opinion, Doctor?”

“Yes, it is. How can I ensure you go home and sleep?”

She offered a thin smile and batted her eyelashes. “You could come and supervise.”

He cocked his head. Did she really want him to go to her home and watch her sleep? “I… think not.”

“Well,” she turned back to the POD, “then I’m staying here. At least until we’re done with the initialization.”

He settled onto the floor next to her, pulling out a node and attaching his PADD to it. He quickly noticed she had resumed her chaotic pattern from when he’d first arrived. Remembering her reaction to his comment on the matter months ago, he held his tongue until the final section of the POD, and then could resist no longer.

“You are processing the nodes in the incorrect order.”

She dropped her PADD to her lap and looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious Sivok? We’re going to do this again?”

He returned to his work silently and chose not argue, but she continued to stare at him. After fifty-one seconds of her observation, he raised an eyebrow at her in question.

“It’s amazing. Think about it: just over seven months ago you were putting down all of humanity, dreading being here, and snapping at me constantly. Now, you’ve cleaned up your act, seem to be much more relaxed on Earth, and we were just discussing sleeping together.”

He jolted and turned in shock. “We-” He began and clamped his mouth shut, feeling his carefully constructed facade of order in his attachment to her shatter. Whatever he had convinced himself of before was suddenly thrown into question, and he began to doubt everything he had concluded in regards to her.

He knew what the slang of “sleeping together” meant. Humans often forgot his increased hearing abilities and would have crude and completely inappropriate conversations when they believed that they could not be overheard.

She sat and looked at him expectantly, clearly trying to gauge his reaction. He closed his eyes and ordered his thoughts, an action that immediately formed a cohesive conclusion. _She was right._

While his thoughts on humanity may not have changed, his words and behavior towards them had. Logically, it was due to her advice that it would prolong his project. But he knew that he also did not want to upset her and that was a much larger motivation to the shift of his attitude.

They had accidentally shared meals, he had slept at her apartment, they had been to each other’s homes to prepare their vegetables on many occasions in the past month, they did recreational activities together every weekend together...

His world had changed significantly in just seven months. He knew moving to Earth would cause an alteration in his routine, and many of their activities had logical justifications, but his… involvement with a human?

_Involvement?_ In what way? He was tempted to ask her how she viewed their interactions, but thought better of it.

He was unskilled in reading human reactions, but even he was capable of knowing on some level that a shift had occurred. Something had changed when she had eaten dinner at his apartment the previous month. He didn’t know what it was and couldn’t explain it, but knew on an instinctual level her behavior had altered in some fundamental way he couldn’t identify.

_“We were just discussing sleeping together.”_

While he was aware what the term meant, he was also aware they certainly had not been discussing it. The phrase seemed to be a double entendre, since the literal meaning was to literally sleep in proximity to another individual. They had been discussing the literal, and she had shifted it to the slang in her statement. She also had to be aware of this since the language was native to her planet.

Therefore, her shift to the slang was intentional. She had also remained silent and awaited his reply, which confirmed that statement. She had meant to say it as she did. But why? Was she attempting to indicate something to him? A human joke perhaps?

He looked up at the POD from his position on the floor and saw the curved console screen. He had been standing at the time, but this was the exact spot they had argued over her staying when he arrived in the middle of the night due to the disastrous transport seven months ago.

She had become angered at his instance she should leave and had placed her hand on his shoulder. Typically Vulcans could touch an individual without initiating telepathic contact, but when he went to remove her hand, an empathetic link had formed.

She had been attracted to him, deeply so. But he had studied humans enough to know they developed spontaneous attraction that often quickly dissipated, and when she made no further advances in the weeks that followed, had pushed it out of his mind and had not considered it again until that moment.

But what if the attraction had continued? _Intensified, even?_ He looked down into her eyes and found them waiting, but otherwise blank. She was still silent, seemingly letting him think.

_“We were just discussing sleeping together.”_

Did that mean she wished to mate with him? Surely not. Was that even possible? He looked back to her blank face, and remembered every occasion he couldn’t decipher her emotional state.

_If she had hidden such a thing, she was more talented at concealing her true emotions than any other human, and many Vulcans._

He looked back at the POD, modulating the final nodes faster than he had ever done before. He quickly picked himself up, darted from her lab, and attempted to focus on his work until Tilk left at 2000 hours.

Missing their lunch and gardening time started as difficult and intensified into almost painful. By evening, he was now only controlling his external reactions, unable to suppress his internal state. Such an attraction was impossible. Not only could she not have it, he certainly could not return it. He certainly could not return it.

The moment Tilk left he grabbed his PADD and shut the lab behind him, taking a long route around the building to avoid her usual evening spots. He rode the air trolley sitting down and attempted to dampen all of his thoughts.

Finally, he arrived at his apartment. He rushed inside, trying to control his increasingly unstable emotions. The foundation of order was logic; if he analyzed the interaction that had destabilized him logically he would regain his control.

He quickly skipped through the early phases of the conversation. He had inadvertently caused her PADD to wake her up - a mistake he’d already reproached himself for. Yet she was also correct that she could easily recover from a lost hour of sleep, therefore his level of concern was inappropriate.

He returned to his thoughts of analyzing the term “sleeping together.” They had been discussing the literal, and then she purposely shifted to the slang. The slang heavily connotated a romantic or otherwise physical relationship that was far beyond coworker or even friend, and had been the catalyst for his current state.

He had considered what she was attempting to indicate to him through the shift, and while he had never internally vocalized it, the implication was plain: she was suggesting they pursue a romantic or otherwise physical relationship.

He distanced himself from the thoughts, watching them flow by. Had he made an erroneous deduction to assume that was her implication? Perhaps she was not implying that at all. He ordered his mind to analyze the situation.

Firstly, did she intend the shift into slang? Her long pause and lack of reaction to his sudden departure suggested she had. The reasonable conclusion is that she intended for him to notice the term and understand its connotations.

Deciding she did intend it, what was her goal in the action? Was she attempting to suggest they pursue a course that would eventually lead to such an action, as he had assumed? Or was it something else?

He dug for other explanations and found one at last: she had exceptional emotional control for a member of her species.

She didn’t react when she was most consumed by her feelings, which often led to her becoming unreadable, and most of her few outward reactions dissipated quickly. It was those she controlled - usually anger - that lingered.

Suddenly he realized that unlike most humans, she had also never spoken against his emotional suppressions. In seven months of interactions, she had never commented on his lack of external emotion, as almost all humans seemed to do.

Perhaps she agreed with his ideologies to some extent. A human version of embracing logic? Such a phenomenon had been observed by Vulcans in the past, but didn’t seem to occur frequently.

If she subscribed to logic, she could have picked up on his instability in regards to her. She could have been testing his reaction, as his mentors once did. As a Vulcan woman might do in the same position.

Was she concerned about his ability to control himself around her? Considering the incident at the museum the month prior, it was not an unreasonable concern. They had been linked telepathically through Frank; perhaps she had been more aware of his thoughts than he had assumed.

Yes, she had shifted the slang to measure his reaction. She was concerned about his state towards her. That’s why she didn’t comment or seek him out after making her declaration. She was enabling him to confront and suppress his emotions in regards to her.

He exhaled, feeling a glimmer of relief. In the back of his mind he was aware that this was also an unfounded conclusion, but he was not about to ask her what she had meant. Besides, such a question would be a violation of her privacy.

_Deep and lasting attraction was impossible between their species._ Vulcans only mated with those outside of their race out of last minute necessity, not because they actually desired such an action. He had been taught so all of his life, and he couldn’t afford to doubt his mentors now.

She was assisting him. Testing him, as a Vulcan woman would. It was a reasonable conclusion, especially considering her intentional statement and careful observation of him in the moments that followed.

He was struck by the dark emotion from months ago, the one he thought was permanently gone. It had resurfaced once again, much stronger than before.

He clamped his eyes shut. She had trusted him and his control. She had always been concerned about him and the day’s events were simply an extension of it. He would prove to her he could rise above his feelings towards her, whatever they were.

_She was not attracted to him,_ he reassured himself. The status quo was still intact, nothing needed to change.

Perhaps she never had been. Misinterpreting another’s emotions for one’s own did happen among Vulcans. Had he simply been projecting his own weaknesses onto her? Was the problem he believed she was currently facing nothing but a reflection of his own issues?

He had picked up on her attraction seven months ago, but was now confident it hadn’t actually existed. Nor had it been real today.

He put his hands up to his head, rubbing his temples. Tension between the subconscious and conscious could be painful and even deadly to Vulcans. Not addressing the issue fully could be a risky course of action, but he did not wish to publicize his struggle further. His discipline had not been this weak since his childhood, and he realized his lapses only related to her.

If he could control his reactions to her and order his thoughts about her, his emotional controls would stabilize.

_She was not attracted to him._

The conclusion soothed his logical mind. But the dark emotion pushed back against the thought, and his headache intensified. His pressed his eyes tighter and forced his hands back into position, pushing his emotions back deep under the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it comes to what it always does IRL: they’re pressing their own cultural expectations each other. It’s what people do under stress, revert to ‘normal’. He thinks she’s testing him, she thinks he needs space. We’ll see what it will take to bring them both into reality.
> 
> Subconscious/conscious pain in Vulcans is from canon VOY. You know, I love Tuvok. He’s got extreme controls, one of the most controlled Vulcans in canon IMO. But we also got to see just how fragile that is. For example, quoting from VOY Alter Ego:
> 
> Marayna: Imagine this: that you - with your logic and your reason - are skimming atop endless waves of emotion. You believe you're in control; but you know that control is an illusion. You believe that you understand the depths beneath you; but that, too, is an illusion.
> 
> Lieutenant Tuvok: I can see why Ensign Kim finds you... compelling.
> 
> That’s canon, folks. Next chapter has a fundamental shift in their day-to-day dynamic, and a six-chapter arc to accompany it!
> 
> Thanks for all of the comments and kudos! They mean so much, and I've gotten so many ideas from your comments. Almost everything you all say ends in a chapter at some point! Thanks!!


	15. Chapter 15

_One week later..._

Sivok undid the buttons on the front flap of his Vulcan-style suit, shrugging the sturdy material from his shoulders and onto his bed. He picked up the meditation robe, slipped it over his arms, and padded out to the living area on the reddish carpet Matteson found so amusing.

She had left 41 minutes before and had appeared to enjoy the v'lik k'par.

 _Matteson._ It had been seven days since he completed repressing his emotions in relation to her. A week ago after completing his meditations, he realized that it was unlike she had been testing him. Matteson was not Vulcan. A Vulcan woman might do such a thing as a countermeasure to a male's reproductive cycle, but Matteson knew nothing about Vulcan biology.

When he accounted for her humanity, he recalled humans were often fascinated with the wellbeing of friends and close associates. He concluded she must be concerned with his mental equilibrium. Nothing more.

As a result, he had gone into the lab unsure what reaction he would receive. Afterall, he had fled from the room and missed their regular activities without an explanation. But to his relief, she behaved as if nothing had happened. Their dynamic was unchanged. Well, _mostly_ unchanged.

_"Hey Sivok." She poked her head out of the casing of the machine and smiled at him, but the smile wasn't as bright or wide as her usual expression of amusement. He approached cautiously._

_"I've got the ULA drive aligned, but I can't get it in alone. Would you hold it on the other side?"_

_He obliged and a moment later she emerged. "Done. Is Tilk planning on submitting those requests anytime soon? I checked this morning and what I gave him still isn't there."_

_Sivok shifted uncomfortably. "I delayed the process yesterday evening."_

_Her eyebrows furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but then her lips closed and her features evened. "Alright. I've got some work to finish up, but I'll be back later."_

_He nodded. "Will I see you at lunch?"_

_She stayed silent for a moment and he felt his chest constrict. Was she going to end their lunch interactions? He felt himself ease as a light smile spread across her face._

_"Of course. I'll see you then, Sivok."_

They resumed their schedule of work, lunch, gardening, and occasionally dinner, but she didn't initiate any physical contact nor made any more personal statements. She never commented on the incident, and it revived his confidence that somehow she understood what had happened and that the situation was now resolved.

The status quo of their professional dynamic had truly been maintained, and that knowledge was an enormous source of comfort. She had distanced herself slightly, but their shared experience and his revelations on her had drawn him closer, creating an easy balance in their dynamic.

_At least for him._

He knelt down to the candle, briefly glancing up at the plaque, his eyes scanning over the Vulcan word and delicate mythological scene. After a moment of staring at the intricate design, his eyes flicked back to the candle and he focused his thoughts, working to push Matteson out of his mind.

After two hours of meditation, he rose and slipped into bed, quickly falling asleep. Later that night, his eyebrows furrowed as the part of his mind that was always aware registered something was very wrong.

He shot up in bed as the noise intensified, and he heard crashing in the kitchen as glass hit the floor. He quickly got up as a large crack split through the wall, and the rattling sound hit a piercing crescendo.

He fell to the floor and away from falling objects to brace himself. The ceiling started to rain plaster on him and he struggled to focus his thoughts until the shaking subsided.

He waited 98.7 seconds and the room began to shake again.

 _Aftershock_.

After five minutes had passed without any shaking, he glanced around the room. His apartment was on the ground floor, but the walls had suffered extensive damage. He rose slowly and made a split second decision, picking up his main PADD and pulling the priceless plaque from the wall.

He carefully exited the building and entered the clear area of the street. Trees, signal poles, and street lights were down.

The damp, cold air seeped through his meditation robes and into his skin, and he instinctively looked back towards the Vulcan embassy down the block. It was outfitted with a security bunker and an emergency outdoor gathering area, and he made his way through the crowd.

The street was almost entirely full and he had to push against the throng. He passed blue skin, green skin, and purple skin, with various unique appendages and sounds stabbing into him and invading his sensitive hearing.

 _The demographic was less than 50% human. Why?_ This was San Francisco, but Earth was still human dominated by far. And reasonably so, it was their home planet.

He closed his eyes momentarily. _The Federation review conference._ Thousands of dignitaries would cycle through the area in seven-day increments for the next month for the biennial event. He had overheard many at Starfleet logistics bemoaning the influx of supplies for the proceedings.

He glanced at the hotels on the strip and back through the extremely diverse crowd. The visibly alarmed aliens must be the accompanying aides, analysts, extra security, and journalists from their respective homeworlds.

He raised his internal temperature against the cool breeze as he finally reached the doors of the damaged Vulcan embassy. He glanced to the side. The main gates were open.

He made his way into the outdoor area and had to consciously repress his shock at the sight: the entire courtyard was in ruins and the walls of building were partially collapsed. Vulcans were pouring out into the main area, most dressed in meditation robes like him.

There was a quiet mumer as the group calmly arranged into orderly lines, and eventually he was directed toward a Vulcan assistant. His chest clenched and he illogically wanted to request a different staff member when the woman turned and raised an eyebrow at his approach.

 _T'Ver, a younger VSA alumni._ Nine years prior he had been asked to assist in the development of new medical imaging technology for the Andorian delegation, and she had been a diplomatic intern assigned through the VSA. Apparently the overconfident and underprepared Vulcan woman had been promoted to Earth, for reasons Sivok could not grasp based on their pained interactions.

"Doctor Sivok," she greeted and glanced down at her PADD.

He nodded respectfully. "I require accommodations."

She raise an eyebrow. "Only the reinforced Ambassadorial quarters are currently in service. All other personnel are being transferred to other locations due to damage."

He nodded. "I assume as a Vulcan citizen I also have access to your assistance."

"Yes. However, due to the conference, few are available and official staff of the embassy receives first priority." She tilted her head and looked him over. "Perhaps you should contact _Starfleet_."

Her tone dripped with venom on the word, causing him to stiffen slightly. "I am with the Vulcan Science Academy, not Starfleet. The embassy is the official on-planet contact for the VSA. I repeat, I require accommodations."

Her face was a stone cold mask of barely disguised distaste. "You are correct." She replied, tapping on her PADD. Her eyes slid down to the device and the plaque tucked under his arm for a split second. He unconsciously tightened his grip around it.

"Your reservation information has been sent via short range communications to your primary PADD link address."

He nodded. "Live long and prosper."

T'Ver dropped her eyes to her PADD without reply and he barely stopped himself from correcting her. She was the second Vulcan on this planet to fail to complete a ritual phrasing with him. What was happening to their culture?

Sivok stepped away and retreated towards the gate. Emergency services were spiraling through the air and he watched evacuation teams carrying people out of the damaged buildings. The street was now completely full and more and more aliens were filling the area. He knew he was fortunate to have received accommodations at all, as the conference had surely booked the city.

On many worlds such a natural disaster would mark the end of the event, but Federation conferences had survived terrorist attacks and even planet-wide evaluations before, so he doubted an earthquake in an isolated area would have any effect on its proceedings.

He opened his PADD and instantly furrowed his eyebrows at the reservation on screen.

_Las Vegas?_

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Matteson checked her PADD for the fifth time, breaking out into a near sprint as she approached the entrance to Starfleet Logistics Center.

She rushed into the lift and down the hall, freezing in her tracks and breathing out in relief as she saw Sivok stand up and move a circuit board onto a shelf. It was sometime after 0300 and she was exhausted, but the aftershock had woken her and sent her into a panic.

"Sivok! Are you okay?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked.

She scoffed, bracing herself for another debate on human sleep requirements. "What are you doing here? It's not too bad on this side of town, but you're right on the fault line! Are you alright?"

She glanced over him, noticing his unusual attire. _Was that a bathrobe?_

He appeared to notice the trajectory of her eyes and shifted. "My apartment complex, the Vulcan embassy, and the surrounding area took damage. I left the vicinity and came into work."

"That was two hours ago. Why haven't you answered my messages? I had to wait for them to open the roads again."

He picked up his PADD. "Communications must be partially down. I have received no messages."

She breathed out slowly and slunked down in Tilk's desk chair. "How did you get here, Sivok?"

"I walked."

She balked. "From your apartment? That's pretty far, even for me."

He shrugged and looked back towards the circuit board. The standard reduced lighting of the late hour illuminated his features. Her stomach fluttered at the sight.

He had made it clear he wasn't ready to be anything more than coworkers the week before. While she had been quite upset he was ignoring her at first, she later decided that she'd pushed him too hard, and he clearly hadn't gotten that her comment had been a joke.

_Well, mostly._

She studied his silhouette. He looked extremely tense and she wanted to put her hands on his shoulders and try to relax him, but held herself back and simply walked in his direction. He continued to stare at the board.

"You've gotta be tired, Sivok."

"I am adequately rested."

She scowled. "Where are you staying?"

He paused and opened the PADD. "The Lover's Inn in Las Vegas, Nevada."

Her mouth fell open, and she clamped it shut and tried not to laugh. "What? You can't stay... _there_."

He tilted his head. "I was informed there are no closer availabilities due to the conference and the recent earthquake."

"Sivok, Las Vegas is an hour away on the speed shuttle. That's two hours of commute per day. And besides, there's a lot of hotels in California. There's gotta be something else. Whoever told you that is misinformed."

"It was procured by a Vulcan Science Academy representative at the embassy. While she is not my," he paused, " _favorite_ secretary in the establishment, I have confidence in her abilities as a Vulcan to perform basic administrative tasks."

"Do you know her?"

"We worked together briefly."

"And did you treat her like you treated me?"

He tilted his head. "Of course not. I consider you a highly capable and agreeable individual."

She smiled softly but grimaced internally. _So he treated her worse._

"Sivok," she stepped forward and again resisted touching him in the way she would have in the weeks prior. "Is this the same person who booked your apartment?"

He paused. "Yes."

"That… makes sense."

She sighed and considered the situation. Things had been awkward between them for the past week, but he seemed oblivious as always. She glanced back at his PADD.

 _The Lover's Inn. What a joke._ She made her decision.

"Sivok, you can't go into Las Vegas. It's a long and crowded commute, and the culture is…" she paused and attempted to formulate an explanation of the city's unique attributes in a way he would understand, "highly erratic and illogical."

He dismissed her warning. "I will endure their idiosyncrasies, just as I have San Francisco."

"No, _you don't get it._ You're not going to be able to handle it there for… how long?"

"Approximately four weeks until I can secure a hotel in San Francisco, once the conference is concluded."

She snorted, imagining Sivok in Vegas. "Yeah, that's not going to work. Besides, The Lover's Inn is going to be crawling with prostitutes."

He paused. " _Prostitutes_?"

"Yeah. The walls will be paper thin, you won't be able to meditate in the noise, the food will be terrible - it'll be a mess for you."

He looked down. "I do not have an alternative."

She breathed in deeply. In theory he could stay with Tilk, but she had a suspicion someone else lived in that house who Tilk wouldn't want his boss seeing him share a bedroom with. He had only one other option.

"I have a guest room. Just stay with me."

She shut her eyes and awaited his reply. She didn't really want him in her apartment, where he could walk around in that robe he was wearing and rub in her face her stupid mistake that set them back months. If not forever.

She slowly opened her eyes at his silence and found him staring at her wide eyed. He quickly recovered and smoothed his expression.

"That is not an option." He leapt to his feet and made his way towards the exit of his lab.

"It's 0300 and half the city is torn up. Where are you going Sivok?"

He paused. "The… mess hall."

"It's closed."

He glared at her. "The storage locker complex."

She sighed. "In your pajamas? You don't have to make up errands; I'll just leave."

He moved back from the door and she walked up to it. "I'll go get you some of my brother's clothes as soon as day breaks."

He said nothing and she stepped through the opening, calling out behind her, "When you change your mind, just come to my apartment. Don't worry about waking me up."

He huffed lightly and shut the door to his lab, his trip to the closed mess hall and storage locker apparently forgotten. She chuckled under her breath and rubbed her temples.

_He wasn't going to last three days in Vegas._

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Sivok straightened his _human_ clothes as he stepped off the speed shuttle, only accessible by the thankfully still-operating station near Starfleet.

Once the area around his apartment was secured, he could collect his belongings before renovations began. Until then, he was borrowing Matteson's brother's clothes.

He struggled to block all thoughts of her and her offer to _cohabitate_ as he walked into the main path, the flashing lights and loud noises assaulting his senses.

While he was now confident in their stabilized dynamic, living with her could easily undermine his tenuous control. It simply wasn't an option, no matter what The Lover's Inn was like. He pulled out his PADD and looked down, pulling up the coordinates of his lodging.

"What are you doing here, Vulcy?"

Sivok's head shot up and raised an eyebrow at the voice. _Vulcy?_ He did not recognize the species of the individual who had posed the question, but he was short with orangish brown skin and a huge head with equally giant rounded ears.

Sivok ignored him and looked back down at his PADD.

"Are you lost? Perhaps I can interest you in a transport code book. This city is a maze, and for only three strips of latinum you'll simply appear right where you need to be. I'm sure being late to wherever you're going isn't logical."

Sivok glanced up and raised an eyebrow. "Earth does not have a latinum-based economy."

The man snorted. "Things are different here in Vegas."

Sivok started to walk away but the orange salesman stepped out from his kiosk and followed him. "My name is Lepton. You know, I've always wanted to work with a Vulcan. I know a lot of your artifacts are quite valuable…"

"I am not an archaeologist, nor would I sell my research if I was."

"Ah, well, what do you do?"

Sivok glared at Lepton. "It is none of your concern."

"Oh come on, Vulcy, I'm just curious. I see a lot of aliens near my shop, but not a lot of Vulcans. Is anyone else with you? Why are you wearing hew-mahn clothes?"

Sivok ignored him and continued walking and the orange man eventually scurried back to his kiosk when another speed shuttle approached, yelling something about his "great respect for Vulcans and deep desire to come to a mutual agreement" at Sivok as he left.

He focused on the map, and 10.9 minutes later he arrived at the establishment.

The Lover's Inn's beige textured exterior was adorned with brightly lit signage that featured a graphic rendering of a man and woman embracing. The woman was painted in a pink color and the man blue, and two antenna had clearly been added at a later date to make him Andorian.

He centered himself and walked into the lobby of the motel. He slowly approached the counter and the young human at the desk looked up. His hair was dyed blue, and his eyes slid up and down Sivok's body.

"Well, hello there. How many people are you with?"

Sivok glanced around, confused. "I am alone."

"Ahhh, I see. So you're looking for one of our _specials_."

Sivok tilted his head. "I have a pre-existing reservation."

"Oh, I know who you are. The Vulcan embassy booked it, I almost fell out of my chair. Well, actually, I've heard rumors about your kind coming for _services_ from the girls before. Lasts for a week most of the time! So don't worry, we don't normally do concierge, but I'll make an exception for you."

Sivok forced himself not to consider what _services_ he might be referring to, and focused his thoughts on his task. Staying with Matteson wasn't an option and this establishment had been procured by a VSA liaison. Surely it would prove to be acceptable.

"I am simply here to stay."

"Uh huh. Okay. No problem. So. What are you?"

"I am Vulcan."

"No, silly, I mean what are you into. Straight, bi, tri, quad, aquatic, reptilian, universal? Humans? Orions? Klingons? We don't have any Vulcan contractors around here, male or female… but I bet you're not here for more of the usual."

"I… do not understand."

"Right. I see." The young human leaned forward and winked. "Don't worry, they don't call us the no-tell-motel for nothing. There's an old saying, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

Sivok stared back blankly. "I am simply looking for my room."

"Ahhhhhh. I get it. I'll handle everything."

Sivok looked over the human suspiciously, as the young man eyed his body and smiled broadly. _What was he referring to handling?_ Sivok hoped he meant his room, but had no desire to ask and continue this conversation.

"Here. Just tap this on your door and your room will open. We typically charge by the hour, so don't be surprised if housekeeping shows up a couple times a day before they get the hang of it."

Sivok raised an eyebrow. Why would someone want a hotel room for only an hour? On Vulcan there were private meditation rooms for travelers that could be reserved in such a fashion, but he highly doubted the people who frequented this establishment were meditating in their allotted time.

Sivok slowly picked up the card and headed towards his room, cautiously watching the blue-haired human as he waved and winked at him. After a climb up four flights of stairs, he finally reached the secluded area of his room, where he would be living for the next Earth month.

He breathed in deeply as he stepped in, but his stomach churned as soon as he took a breath. The air was putrid.

Sivok looked back towards the stairs. Requesting a new room would require interacting with the strange human again, but staying would mean living with this smell. He considered his options and decided to open his windows and attempt to air the room out.

_"This has been such a great trip. But I don't think this can continue."_

His brows furrowed as the words penetrated the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound, but the action only accentuated the smell.

 _"What are you saying, Cherene?"_ A male voice responded, much louder than the first. Their discussion quickly disintegrated into a screaming match, and Sivok shut the window, hoping it would lessen the sound.

_"I'll drag everything about this to your mother."_

_"Oh yeah, I'll tell your wife!"_

Sivok breathed in deeply to center himself, and reflexively gagged at the action. Defeated, he slowly picked up his PADD and went back towards the blue-haired human to request a new room.

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_Three days later..._

"Excuse me, Doctor Sivok."

Sivok jolted awake and barely stopped himself from frowning at the Ensign.

"You can't sleep here." Pike crossed his arms and cocked his head at Sivok, who glared in reply.

"I have no intention of doing so."

Pike snorted. "You've been asleep in the study lounge for the past two hours! I have to close this area up and I can't leave anyone free reign of a biomedical warehouse."

Sivok narrowed his eyes. "I stay past midnight on many occasions. You would not know this due to your comparatively short work schedule."

Pike shook his lightly head at the jab. "That's in the outer section. You can't be in here after closing. You also can't sleep in your lab. Again, _biomedical warehouse_."

Sivok stood and straightened himself. "I have no intention of sleeping here. I was simply… meditating. Deeply."

"Right. Dream-based meditation. Well, may I suggest getting a hotel?"

Sivok breathed out and considered his options, an action he had repeated dozens of times in the past 72 hours.

The so-called motel, which seemed to operate as nothing more than a brothel, was not an option. Unfortunately Matteson had been correct about the prostitutes in the establishment.

He had been affronted by dozens of scantily clad women and men of a variety of species, all who all claimed to have been 'sent' by the front desk. Attempting to speak with the establishment manager had shown no effect, who simply stated she was used to Vulcans and knew some needed some encouragement and claimed she was 'doing him a favor'.

Sivok was naturally aware of _what_ she was referring to, but had painstakingly mentally avoided considering her knowledge of the condition or the embassy's knowledge of the brothel. His opinion of T'Ver had hit a new low for a Vulcan.

After realizing the Vulcan woman's incompetence in procuring the facility and the total unacceptable nature of the establishment and its "paper thin" walls, he had transferred to another hotel in Vegas and paid for it himself.

Unfortunately, the occupants stayed up all night partying and his hearing could clearly pick up their activities, even with the thicker walls. The chaotic, loud environment had greatly interfered with his meditation cycle, and his body rhythm was in chaos due to his complete lack of sleep.

If sleep deprivation, a greatly disturbed meditation cycle, and constant bombardment of sexual harassment had been the only problems, Sivok believed he could have repressed his reactions to the matter and suffered through.

But the food was the _real_ issue. There were no vegan dishes in the city and most of the food was not only animal based, but _still alive_ at the time of consumption. He could find no pre-prepared food to purchase. He also couldn't cook for himself in his room and the science center had been closed for minor repairs from the earthquake, making the garden plot unaccessible for now.

He was left with replicated mess hall food, most of which was human or from another non-Vulcan planet. However, his ID only allowed for one meal from the mess hall per day. Raising the limit involved changing his card type, and his status as a visiting scientist only allowed his current card.

Neither Matteson nor Tilk had a replicator at home and his was trapped in his apartment. _Along with his logical discipline._

Matteson was thankfully allowing him to use her kitchen in the evenings and they were alternating cooking, forcing him to experiment with human ingredients.

Sivok broke from his thoughts when Pike groaned at his silence. He narrowed his eyes at the obnoxious and meddlesome Ensign. Shouldn't he be off in space on a posting somewhere, doing whatever 'research' barbaric Starfleet ships did?

"Listen, Doctor, I know you're in a tough spot. We're all in trouble, trying to keep this conference afloat in all the wreckage. But no place else is capable of handling this diversity of species with such unique needs; we all just need to pull through."

"As I have told you repeatedly, I am not attempting to sleep on premises."

"Whatever. Just find someplace else to say."

"I do not have anywhere else reasonable to stay." Sivok admitted.

Pike paused and looked contemplative, but then his expression hardened. "Well, I don't have any extra room. Maybe you should have been nicer and you would have gotten some offers."

Sivok narrowed his eyes. "I did have an offer of accommodations."

Pike laughed. "Well, isn't staying with _whoever_ more logical than napping in the logistics center?"

"It is with Lieutenant Matteson."

Pike's expression paled. "Cecilia will still let you sleep at her apartment? But I thought..." Pike trailed off and gazed away.

Sivok tried to suppress his annoyance at the casual use of her given name. "She is aware of my lodging situation."

"Well, I mean," Pike scratched the back of his head, "you know, I don't think it would that big of a deal if you slept in your lab for a bit. Considering the circumstances."

Sivok tilted his head. "That would be in direct violation of regulation. You stated as such mere minutes ago."

"Yeah, but that's for regular circumstances. I mean, the conference and an earthquake at once? What are the odds? So I'm sure an exception could be made…"

Three days of broken meditation were beginning to wear on him, and Sivok wanted to groan at the cadet's ever-shifting list of priorities and allowances. He quickly excused himself as the human babbled on, attempting to backpedal on the rules in an apparent attempt to keep him away from Matteson.

The hours passed as Sivok returned to his work. He glanced up as the midnight dimming of the lights occurred and he pulled down the human shirt, annoyed that the fabric continued to shift as he worked. _Vulcan clothing stayed in place._

Soon after left the complex and walked along the slightly damaged sidewalks to Matteon's home. Thankfully the area had taken comparatively little damage. And he pressed his finger against the glass of apartment's door, it slid open on command.

The kitchen light was still on but all others were dark, indicating Matteson was asleep. _As she should be._

He reached into the stasis chamber and pulled out his pre-prepared meal. It had been Matteon's turn to cook, as he had prepared the end-meal the day before. It was called vegetarian chili, whatever that was. He supposed he was about to find out.

Her kitchen table was mostly covered in potting soil and seed trays, and he cleared himself a spot to sit and eat. The chili was palatable and he ate it slowly. She was now regularly preparing him meals, but he was doing the same for her. Considering it occurred twice daily, such a regular action would typically be an act between mates.

But this was different; it was due to circumstances beyond his control. As Pike said, it was an unlikely occurrence, and they were responding in a logical way.

_On that reasoning, perhaps staying here was logical as well?_

Matteson's warnings about Vegas had been correct. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't meditate, he couldn't find anything to eat. It had been a terrible three days, and the thought of cramming onto that awful speed shuttle with those strange people one more night was difficult to bear, considering his greatly reduced meditation.

He closed his eyes, listening closely. No sound but the steady rise and fall of her breathing. No scent besides the remnants of a mild cleaning agent. No wild parties or prostitutes knocking on his door.

Their relationship had just began to stabilize into a truly professional dynamic. He had resisted her offer of lodging due to his concern over his control being overextended living in close quarters. But perhaps he had miscalculated. Wouldn't being deprived of meditation, sleep, and food for a month weaken his control more than staying with her? He was almost positive it would.

Unfortunately, the obnoxious ensign was correct - he couldn't continue to meditate or doze in the biomedical warehouse. And his hotel arrangements were unacceptable. He needed someplace to stay, and he reluctantly acknowledged her offer was the most suitable choice. Besides, he was already visiting her apartment each evening to eat.

_"When you change your mind, just come to my apartment."_

Sivok finished his chili, cleaned the bowl and lifted his PADD off the table. He glanced towards the door to leave, and then towards her guest bedroom. If he took her offer, there was no need to return to that dreadful city. All of his limited belongings not trapped in his apartment were in his lab.

After a moment of contemplation, he flipped off the kitchen light, slipped into the back bedroom, leaned back on the small daybed, and fell asleep for the first time in three days before even removing his human clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insanely Long and Cheesy Author's Note: And now that they're living together, the true fun begins. XD Now that their lives are really integrated, what do you think will happen when Sivok has no place to hide from Matteson? The argument between Lepton and Sivok is largely inspired from a scene between Quark and a Vulcan woman in DS9. The 'vulcy' endearment is borrowed from BewilderedFemale. I would have asked permission, but her account appears to be inactive now, which is very sad. She wrote great Vulcan/OC fiction that inspired much of this. The interpretation (with a racier twist) of Vegas is borrowed from TomFoolery, with permission.
> 
> I'm so sorry for the long delay, work has been really hectic, plus I've been speaking a lot. I'm going to try to get another chapter done this week, but I have another work-related speech to give, and it's a complex subject that needs more prep and practice. I have the next six/seven chapters largely plotted out, though.
> 
> Big thank you to Such Amaze, irockmysocksoff53, lilyoftheval5, LaniaMaior, Jansma, Larklyn, and krisarna. And all of the kudos! All of your comments are so encouraging, and you've all shaped this story in ways you can't imagine. I have no idea what the plot or characters would be like without your comments. So thank you very much!
> 
> And as always, a huge thank you to TomFoolery for beta-ing this chapter with such precision, and so fast! Their amazing Sarek/Amanda series just ended, and it's my favorite of the pairing. With that done, I'm so excited to see they are writing a Vulcan/human OC story! We need a lot more in this genre, and there's quite literally nobody I can think of who would do a better job. Make sure to go check it out and subscribe!


	16. Chapter 16

Matteson stretched as she shuffled out past the pitch-black window, rubbing her eyes and yawning at her normal 0500 waking time.

"Computer, lights."

She turned the corner towards the kitchen and shrieked.

"Arghhh!"

Sivok blinked rapidly, his brow giving a slight twitch of displeasure at her loud exclamation.

"Sivok, what are you doing here!?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You instructed me to come to your apartment if I decided Las Vegas was unsuitable."

She recovered from her surprise at the mention of Vegas. He had been tight lipped for the past three days on his stay in Sin City, but he'd become less alert and more erratic with each day that had passed. And much,  _much_ pickier about their work.

Chambal had taken to hiding from him in Matteson's lab and the pair left every day with Tilk visibly annoyed by his interactions with his boss. For everyone's sake, Matteson hoped he was ready to take up her offer, no matter what her concerns about the arrangement were.

She smiled slightly. "And?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I have decided Las Vegas is unsuitable. However, I am still concerned cohabitation would be… inappropriate."

His eyes lingered on her as he studied her clothing, then he quickly glanced at the floor. Matteson looked down, crossing her arms over her chest and grimacing. She was wearing short-shorts and a thin-strapped top with no bra or undershirt, and her wavy hair was sticking out in all directions.

_She would have worn more clothes if she had known he was there!_

But in typical Sivok style, he was unwilling to interfere with one millisecond of her 'oh-so vital for humans' sleep, even to tell her that he was  _moving in_. She sighed as Sivok continued to stare at the floor, blatantly avoiding looking at her.

"Well, you're always welcome here. I'm going to go… put some clothes on."

He nodded curtly and disappeared into the kitchen, and twenty minutes later she returned in uniform, surprised to see her table was rearranged and partially cleared.

Sivok emerged from the kitchen and stole a glance at her clothing before visibly relaxing. He set two bowls onto the table and neatly arranged silverware next to the dishes as she slid into her seat and looked over the food.

It was a surreal experience having her stern and often downright rude Vulcan coworker and sort-of love interest in her brother's  _human_ clothes, making her a surprise breakfast, in her apartment.

"This is… interesting. Thank you." She smiled and picked up her spoon, smelling the purple liquid. "What is it?"

He tilted his head. "It is an Earth dish."

"Right. It's just… Earth has a lot of dishes, and I've never seen this one."

He nodded cautiously. "The recipe called it sweet potato soup. Vulcan custom dictates first meal should be prepared by the guest and this is the closest soup I could find to the traditional morning meal on Vulcan."

"I see. It looks great." She took a bite and immediately cleared her throat, grabbing the water he had placed out.

"Is it not acceptable?"

"No, it's just spicier than I expected a sweet potato to be. That's all." She took a big gulp and returned to eating with a big smile, giving him a thumbs up with her spare hand.

He closely watched her eat for a moment before focusing on his own dish. After a minute of eating in silence, she noticed his eyes kept hovering on her seed trays.

"I'm breeding another Sarracenia."

He nodded and glanced towards the table on the opposing wall covered in carnivorous plants. "But  _you_ are a vegetarian?"

"Yeah, but they only eat insects."

He nodded slowly. "It is an interesting choice in horticultural hobby. As is keeping your table covered in their supplies."

She chuckled and took another bite, wincing at the extreme heat of the dish and wondering if he forgot to take the seeds out of the peppers. She watched him swallow without reaction. The Vulcan's taste buds were apparently tough as steel.

"Well, the table isn't  _always_ covered in gardening supplies."

"You are correct. In the past month of exchanging gardening rations, I have observed your table entirely obstructed by PADDs, a water pump, towels, painting supplies, a transitory drive, the contents of two years of Logistics Quarterly publications, a complete set of-"

"Yes, yes Sivok, my table is always full. Is that a problem?"

He paused. "It is  _your_  home."

"And this is like the fifth time you've brought it up in the past month."

"I am only… commenting." He fell silent and focused on his soup and Matteson sighed and put her spoon down.

_And so it begins._  After the past eight months of interacting with Sivok on daily basis, and the past 30 days of eating dinner together most evenings from the fruits of their gardening, she had a good picture of what living with him for the next month would be like.

_Starting with the darn table._ He was clearly bothered by the items that always littered it and he constantly badgered her while she cooked to 'allow him to finish the meal so she could clean off the table'.  _And_ he was apparently keeping an inventory of what had appeared on it.

She picked up her spoon and returned to the scalding hot soup. If she still wanted to harbor any fantasies of ever having a romantic relationship with him, she would need to get used to compromise. "I'll keep the table clean, Sivok."

He met her eyes expectantly, and then nodded. "While I would support such an endeavor, it is your home and I will be an uncumbersome houseguest."

_Sure you will._ She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. If Sivok was anything, he was  _cumbersome_.

He continued. "As I said, in accordance to custom, I will be preparing morning meal. It is traditionally served at 0430. However, due to your extensive sleep requirements-"

"I'll be up at 0430 for breakfast," she interrupted, tired of being lectured on her sleeping schedule and hoping he didn't plan on serving spicy soup every morning.

He frowned slightly. "That is unacceptable. As I was saying, you need additional sleep-"

"I'll go to bed earlier. How about that?"

He nodded slightly. "I believe further discussion on this is warranted-"

"Sivok, we've spent  _eight months_  discussing my sleep. It was the first thing we argued about. Remember when you showed up to the warehouse in the middle of the night and insisted I needed to go home and  _sleep_?"

"Of course. I have an eidetic memory. I maintain I was correct; it was late and you needed to return to your home."

She gawked at him. "You're  _still_  holding onto your arguments from back then? Have you learned anything at all?"

He ignored the second question. "I am concerned about your wellbeing. As I know you  _can_ be persuaded by logic, I have compiled a file of studies that examine human sleep needs in relation to health and forwarded it to your main PADD link address."

She rubbed her temples as he went on about REM cycles and a proper environment for optimal rest, even recommending replacing her door to block more light.  _What was she getting herself into?_

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_Later that night…._

Sivok adjusted the bag over his shoulder as he pressed his finger against the glass. The door slid open to reveal Matteson perched on the couch in civilian clothes, reading a PADD.

Even though she was modestly covered, he still averted his eyes from her form, thinking back to the incident this morning. He had never considered that she slept in such little clothing, or he would have approached the morning differently.

Surely such provocative clothing was unnecessary for an unmarried woman, even in human culture.  _Unless…_ He shook his head, suppressing the thought.

She looked up and smiled widely as he stepped inside.  _Too widely._  She eagerly patted the couch next to her and he cautiously dropped the bag to his side as he slumped onto the human furniture.

"I'm reading the new study from Doctor Jefferies, have you seen it yet?"

"I have not."

She leaned towards him and tilted the PADD in his direction and he braced himself as the sides of their arms brushed. It was the first time they had touched in eleven days; he breathed out in relief as his control remained unaffected by the action. Still, he shifted away. This arrangement was logical but high-risk, and he needed to be cautious as to not threaten his control and put her in danger.

Her smile faded as he moved to the other side of the couch. "Here you go then. I'm going to go start dinner."

He nodded and took the PADD from her, careful to avoid touching her hands. She left the room and he looked at the device, realizing he had never touched it before. Primary PADDs were personal objects, though she often projected its screen in her lab onto the main display. Nevertheless, the action was somewhat intimate.

His eyes scanned the text of the study, its contents certainly pertinent to the next phase of development to the adaptable manufacturing modification. He scrolled to the top of the article and noticed the blue box next to the text. His finger hovered over the icon, but he pulled his hand back.

As if knowing his thoughts, she called from the kitchen. "Feel free to read my notes."

Raising an eyebrow at the timing, he pressed the icon and a long series of comments appeared on screen. For the next hour as she cooked, he found himself ignoring the article and simply studying her comments on it, which were providing far more insight into the applications of the findings than the paper itself.

He was reminded of Mattseon's engineering ability once again, which was impressive no matter what her job title technically was.  _Why was she working in logistics instead of in research and development?_  As he scanned her last note, she emerged from the small kitchen with two plates.

"Dinner is ready." She smiled at him again, and he rose and made his way to the table, noticing that for the first time in the twenty-two occasions he had visited her apartment, the table was clear.

_A significant improvement in cleanliness and hygiene._ He had been cautious about his comments, thinking back to their early interactions and her offense at his observations. He did not wish to risk their relationship or his new housing arrangement, but surely she understood keeping a water pump from aquatic housing and dirt from outside near her prepared food was unsanitary.

He took a bite of the rice-based dish and closed his eyes. Not only was it acceptable, it was  _palatable_. After attempting to exclusively consume human food and create it himself for the past four days, he had developed a new appreciation for her cooking and the meals she made him.

He peered at her for a brief moment as she served the food onto her plate before looking back down, trying to ignore the pleasant tingling sensation her cooking for  _him_ gave.

_She is acting logically, serving a guest and assisting him in a time of need. If it ever arose, he would swiftly return the gesture to her._

They ate in silence and he considered the circumstances. The resolution of his living situation was a great relief, even if cohabitation with Matteson was a somewhat unideal solution. However, as the meal progressed, he became less concerned about his own control and more about her.

She had been overly enthusiastic so far which was abnormal in itself, and now she was displaying signs of human nervousness as she pushed her food around her plate, shifting in her chair sporadically.  _Was she disturbed by his presence?_  They ate together regularly, except tonight he would be  _sleeping_  here as well.

Perhaps now that she was confronted by the reality of such an arrangement she was reconsidering her offer? He mentally formulated a plan to gather more data, but was unsure where to begin. He decided to attempt a standard human conversation starter.

"Has your current waking period been satisfactory?"

She paused and scrunched her face at his question. Perhaps he phrased it wrong? He heard many variants but was unfamiliar with the specifics of the ritual greeting.

"Um, my day was…  _fine_. I spent most of with you, between work, lunch, and now." She looked his face over suspiciously. "How was… yours?"

The pitch of her voice shifted as she finished her query. He nodded and replied, "Acceptable. And your time in-between you leaving the warehouse and my arrival?"

"It was… great. I caught up on my work, took a shower, re-did your room, and cleared the table. Did anything interesting happen at the lab while I was gone?"

"I completed thirty-nine simulations of the SPAN-5 reduction sequence. I also reviewed Tilk's report to the quality assurance team."

She nodded slowly. "Sounds fun. How's Tilk?"

He tilted his head. "You interacted with him 3.73 hours ago. Why would you need additional information on his status?"

She sighed. "Nevermind."

He paused, unsure if he just made a faux pas in the custom. He thought back to her agreement to eat first meal at the traditional time and her willingness to bend to his customs, and wanted to ensure he took care to observe  _her_  customs as well.

Reminded of her new waking hour, he also made a mental note that she would need to be asleep within one hour and twenty-eight minutes in order to fulfill her basic sleep requirements and rise at that time. She hadn't  _technically_ agreed to do so, but he took her silence that morning on the matter as acceptance.

He looked her over, noticing the slightly frustrated downward curve of her eyebrows and lips, and decided to attempt to correct his possible mistake. "Tilk is in adequate condition, according to my knowledge. However, he had a pre-existing commitment this evening which required him leaving earlier than normal, but still later than most."

Sivok squinted his eyes and added, "He has stated before that his after-work activities are largely recreational, but he has not shared the exact nature of them."

Matteson smiled slowly. "You really don't know what he's talking about when he says  _personal recreation_?"

Sivok blinked. "You do?"

She laughed. "No, Sivok. I don't know  _exactly_ what he's doing. Did you fix the bug in the ninth simulation compiler?"

They casually discussed the project and Sivok considered her abrupt change of subject. She said she didn't know _exactly_ what Tilk was doing, but did she know in general? Her comments implied she did. Sivok didn't really care about Tilk's hobbies, but the implication was plain.  _Perhaps they had a closer relationship than he realized._

As soon as the thought passed through his mind, Sivok immediately fought to repress his intense internal reaction to it. For some reason, the idea of Tilk and Matteson knowing each other well was highly uncomfortable. He resolved to further  _suppress_  it meditation, long having given up understanding such things when it came to her.

Suddenly he realized it had been over a month since he considered Tilk and Chambal's relationship in comparison to he and Matteson. The younger Vulcan's easy dynamic with the human woman had once been a source of annoyance and confusion for him, but he hadn't thought of it since their museum visit a month prior.

The pieces slowly fell into place, and Sivok realized that it wasn't that he no longer cared about his comparative struggle to make a human acquaintance. Rather, the struggle had  _ended_  and such comparisons were no longer fitting.

He and Matteson were…  _friends_.

Friendship and loyalty meant something different to Vulcans than most other humanoid species. Humans had so many so-called friends, but Sivok had overheard enough backstabbing to know most were as shallow as they were purported to be. Someone would shower a 'friend' with praise and support in the halls at 0900, and describe their dislike for the same individual to another 'friend' over lunch. Though Matteson appeared to be exempt from this behavior.

To a Vulcan, a friend was a connection much deeper. His species built many acquaintances and connections with coworkers, not to mention complex family structures, but a  _friend_  was someone to be trusted in one's weakest moments. Someone to share one's mind with, quite literally in the case of a meld.

_Yes, he viewed her as a friend._  It was why staying with her was even a remote option, and why she had offered in the first place.

Sivok thought back to Pike's jab and the many, many comments on his undesirable attitude.

" _Maybe if you had been nicer you would have gotten more offers."_

Even Matteson had pleaded with him to adjust his behavior and he had done as she requested. But even with his lack of 'niceness' - a poorly defined and inconsistent trait in most humans - she had remained a constant in his life on this wet, loud planet. She had always offered even when he wasn't 'nice'.

_Had she always considered him a friend?_ He resolved to not repeat his mistake from the week before and actually inquire.

"Are we friends?" he asked suddenly. He was somewhat concerned when she quickly dropped her spoon and looked up, surprised.

"Wh- _what_?"

"Are we friends?" He straightened himself seriously, and she looked even more confused, but then slowly began to smile.

"Of course we are, Sivok." Then her smile faltered. "Do you not consider us friends?"

"I do," he responded quickly. "Understand this is a serious statement for a Vulcan."

She chuckled. "I thought all statements from Vulcans are serious."

"Affirmative. I meant serious in the meaning of gravity."

"I know, Sivok. I was joking." She looked down to her lap. "I'm really glad you said that. I'll admit, I was thinking today and I've been a bit worried about this. I want you to stay here, but after what happened last week, I'm worried I'll do something wrong and…" She trailed off and went silent.

He internally flinched at her reference to his slip in control, though he was confident he had no visible reaction.  _But what did she think she had done wrong?_

She rubbed the back of her head and finished her statement. "I just don't have the kind of control over my thoughts or actions that you do. I don't want to ruin our friendship because I do or say something stupid."

He sat dumbfounded at her words.  _Her control?_  It was he who had projected his thoughts on her, and he who had misidentified attraction and imposed his own reactions on the flawed assumption. She may not have been testing him consciously, but surely she hadn't actually meant they should  _sleep together?_

He closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts under the surface. Revisiting that event would only harm his equilibrium. He weighed his next words carefully.

"Our friendship has never been in danger."

He assured her and opened his eyes to find her smiling,  _her real and natural smile._  Just months ago he would have been repulsed by such an action, but in that moment the familiar contour of her natural reaction was a comforting sight.

"I'm glad. You're my only friend, and I wouldn't want to lose you." She started to move her hand towards his arm, but then pulled it back to her side.

"I am your only friend because you are a  _loner_?"

She laughed at his continued use of the word. "Yeah, that's right."

He stayed silent for a moment and considered his options. If they were truly friends, then he should be honest.

"Then I am a  _loner_ as well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is an old chapter I realized wasn't posted on AO3. I'll update with the next chapter - and a proper author's note - within the hour. Thanks!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two chapters within an hour - make sure to read them both to understand what's going on!

Matteson shifted in her sleep, but frowned instinctively as she rammed up against the wall of pillows. A few moments later her eyes flickered open to a wall of white cotton.  _What were all of these pillows doing there?_

She stilled as she felt someone shift, breathing in and out deeply.

_Sivok was still there._

Suddenly feeling awake at the realization, she lifted herself gently to peer at him over the wall. For the past weeks, she had been extremely careful not to be overly forward with him. He clearly wasn't ready - or maybe not even interested - with anything further than friendship with her.

This caution had even extended to how long she looked at him, but now with him sound asleep...she squinted her eyes to focus on his face, which was difficult to see in the dark, though she had never shut the city-facing windows so there was  _some_  light.

Matteson shifted up onto the pillows, but tensed as he suddenly moved. His breathing lightened dramatically.  _Was he waking up? How did Vulcan sleep even work?_

He stilled, but continued to breathe in short, shallow bursts. She moved back ever so slightly behind her fortress of pillows and continued her study in the dark, trying to supplement what she could visually see with her imagination.

He was wearing her brother's human clothes, she knew, something he wasn't thrilled with, though he had amazingly kept silent on the matter. He looked peaceful in his sleep, his normally stoic but tense features gently relaxed.

She leaned in a little closer towards him, looking him over as best as she could see. Occasionally a hover vehicle would pass near the still-open window and momentarily illuminate the room, giving her small glimpses of his sleeping form.

_Small glimpses of what could be if…_

Matteson frowned, thinking over the weeks prior. The experience of living together had been especially confusing.

In some ways he was distant and kept away from her, physically. But he seemed to be drawing into her so much mentally, or was it emotionally?  _Was she really willing to entertain the idea he was getting emotionally attached to her?_

What if he really was interested romantically, but didn't know how to express it? What if he was concerned about judgement on Vulcan for going outside of his species? Would their relationship affect his standing with the VSA?

The room lit up for another split second, and she glanced at the pillows that separated them in her bed. The fantasy that they were actually laying together was a pleasant one, but it simply wasn't true.

He had been guilt-tripped into coming in there, hesitated again and again, and laid down at far from her possible on the side of the bed, separated by a wall of pillows that might as well been made of steel.

The fact that she had woken up next to him was an accident, not a fulfillment of anything. She closed her eyes and reiterated it to herself.

Suddenly, he shifted again, and as she opened her eyes she thought she saw his close.  _Was he actually awake and thinking she was some kind of freak for watching him sleep? Or did she just imagine that?_

She laid very still from behind the pillows, and he stilled fully. After a few moments, his breathing deepened and the muscles on his face relaxed fully once again.

Matteson sighed, determined to stop torturing herself and go back to sleep. She leaned up, deciding to go and sleep on the couch to avoid the inevitable trauma of the morning if they woke up together. She moved very slowly, leaning her elbows on the pillows and inching herself up.

_She had done this before on the couch, she could do it again._

She froze as he suddenly shifted once again, this time partially turning and lifting his arm onto the pillows.  _He sure is a rough sleeper._

As her mind began to consider this new information, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She needed to stop thinking about him in a romantic way. It was only hurting her.

She looked down at his arm laying on the pillow, right next to her hand. If he had moved an inch to the left, he would have bumped into her and wouldn't  **that**  have been a fiasco.  _He wasn't interested, she needed to let this go._

She leaned down closer once again, putting her weight on her arm that was only inches from his on the mound of pillows separating them.

She thought back to every physical contact, from the strange sensation of the first night when he arrived, to his jerky reactions, to his sudden embracing of casual contact, to Frank's telepathic connection, and Sivok's eventual severing of anything between them in the month prior.

_If only they had gotten to kiss once._

She looked at his lips for a moment, but then lightly shook her head. That was a  _very_ stupid idea, unless she wanted to end up tossed across the room as he woke up.

She leaned back and glanced back at his arm next to hers, the nudge to move her hand over onto his tingling in her fingertips.  _Also unwise._

She sighed lightly and slowly raised herself from the bed, slipping out of the room, down the hallway, and onto her couch. She tugged the rarely used blanket off the armrest and wrapped it around herself, the warm apartment suddenly feeling cold.

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Sivok slowly set his lunch container onto the bench, and steepled his hands in meditation. He had arrived at their usual lunch spot on the roof 24.87 minutes earlier than he normally did in order to reflect in private.

His actions the previous evening had been unwise. He had known that when he took them, but did so anyhow. Waking up in her bed, even though she was no longer present, had been an alarming and guilt-inducing experience.

It was imperative such behavior ceased  _immediately_.

However, analysis of the events the evening before showed no crime committed. Due to the size of sleeping platform and the brigade of pillows, they had been physically further from each other sleeping than they were at lunch eating everyday, and probably would be in a few minutes.

That he had fallen asleep was unfortunate, but likely was caused by his intensive reflection and planning. His considerations had been so deep he realized he could not recall a single point or scene from the documentary.

_His plans…_

Sivok sat, considering the possibility that his plot was nothing more than indulging his already overly intense attachment to Matteson, but decided his reasoning for his plans were sound. It enabled them to continue their friendship, would improve her life, and the changes it entailed should end his unacceptable breaches in control.

He closed his eyes, and spent the final 8.4 minutes until her arrival finalizing his decision and considering the phrasing of his proposal. He opened his eyes at the exact time of their meeting, only to find himself startled.

"Sivok?"

She was leaning around the edge of wall dividing the section off, peaking around the corner. She had removed the band from her hair as she occasionally did at lunch, and the red tips were sticking out around the wall significantly more so than her face.

He felt his chest constrict, though he was unsure of the reason.

She cleared her throat and shifted slightly out further into his view. "Do you need some time...alone today?"

He relaxed, once again relieved at her concern and respect for his people's ways, a thought that also bolstered his confidence greatly. However, she also seemed agitated and unsure, which confused Sivok.

 _Perhaps waking to his disgraceful position and sleeping on the couch had affected her as well._ He put the morning out of his mind and focused on her.

"Please join me for our usual lunch."

She nodded slowly and made her way to the bench, sitting on the far end of it. He resisted the urge to shift closer to reinforce his earlier thoughts on proximity.

_However, some additional distance - both physical and metaphorical - was still prudent._

They both opened their respective containers. Matteson sighed heavily and Sivok raised an eyebrow. She was certainly disturbed, and he wondered if it was the best time to make his proposal.

She finished her bite and spoke. "Found out this morning I'm going to Progress Conference on Deltus III in two weeks."

He paused. "You were  _just_ informed?"

"Yeah, I've been ordered from way up. I don't even know why they want me there."

Sivok looked down at his food. He assumed the order had come from Admiral Jeffeston, who had repeatedly attempted to force Sivok to participate in the admiral's pet project showcasing various Starfleet research to diplomats and politicians leaving the Federation main conference that currently taking place in San Fransisco.

It was a sham of a scientific event, only meant to show off Starfleet activities to those with little care for scientific excellence. Sivok had escaped the admiral by involving the VSA, so the elderly human had clearly punished Matteson in his place.

"Since you'll be staying here while I'm gone, would it be too much to ask to feed the plants and fish for me?"

He quickly looked up and raised an eyebrow, thinking of the ominous vegetation near the window in the apartment.

"I know they're carnivorous, but none of their food is alive or ever was. It's all replicated. I'll show you how to feed them and how to stimulate the digestion process. And you've watched me feed the fish before. I'll leave a list for everything."

He thought of the Venus fly trap on the table and repressed a shudder as he considered dropping the freeze dried specimens into it and "stimulating the digestion process", even if it was replicated. But he was staying in her home, and with all he had put her though, surely he owed her that.

He nodded. "Very well."

"Thanks. You'll need to feed the fish everyday, and it'll be 1-2 plants a day to feed, so 20 or so in all."

He tilted his head. "How long will you be absent?"

"Ten days."

Sivok quickly set his fork into the canister. "The conference is only two days long."

"Yeah," she sighed heavily, "but I have to travel there on some weird Starfleet specialty transport."

"Why?"

"Because I've been ordered to assist in the setup and teardown of the event."

Sivok closed his eyes.  _He_ was the one being punished, not her. The admiral was lashing out in the only way he could, by denying Sivok access to his…

_His what?_

His friend and trusted coworker, Sivok assured himself. But how did the admiral even know of their dynamic?  _Perhaps he was overthinking it._

Sivok considered the ten days of separation, and slowly braced his hand on the bench.

He would wake up alone, eat his breakfast alone, work alone, attempt to ignore Tilk and Chambal alone, eat lunch alone, work alone all evening, cook alone, feed the  _carnivorous_ plants and fish alone, eat dinner alone, read alone, and go to bed alone for ten days.

_Just as he had done his entire life prior to the current year._

The pain of considering a permanent separation if she were to reject his offer returned, and he quickly looked to the floor and steadied his breathing.

"Are you alright, Sivok?"

He looked up at her slowly and studied the concern on her face, her concern for him. Concern  _nobody_ had ever held for him.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his resolve solidifying. At that moment, he decided to put his careful scripting of the evening before into action.

"I believe you are more capable than your current role within logistics."

She frowned, swallowing her bite and dropping her fork into the container. " _What?"_

"I believe your engineering abilities significantly surpass those required for your position, and that you could make excellent contributions in more critical areas."

She tilted her head. "Thank you for the... _compliment_  on my skills, but logistics is extremely critical. You know that."

He nodded. "I am aware. But it requires no major breakthroughs at this time, and you are capable of outputting significantly more value in a different specialty, or at the minimum, a research position within logistics."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to fight with you over logistics value or its needed breakthroughs. But I'm happy where I'm at."

He raised an eyebrow at her comment on happiness, and she continued. "Besides, you don't just walk into a department and declare yourself a researcher. There are degrees and certifications for such things that are required, and I don't have them."

"Assuming the institution recognizes those certifications."

She scrunched down her eyebrows. " _What_? You've lost me here."

"You comment assumes those certifications are accepted by the institution. Some organizations do not allow offworld degrees, but have a different exchange admittance testing program, which are not based on planetary education systems."

"Okay. That's...great." She scratched her head. "Starfleet isn't one them."

"I am aware. But the Vulcan Science Academy is."

She picked up her food and stabbed the round noodle with her fork. "I'm sure that's helped you recruit some great people, though I'm frankly shocked the VSA spent so much effort to let non-Vulcans apply."

He tilted his head. "Applicants must be recommended into the program by a VSA graduate of certain standing."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense then." She looked back to her food and continued to eat, her previous unhappiness settling back onto her face.  _She did not understand his offer._

He straightened himself and steepled his hands. "I believe you would be accepted into the Adaptable Compound Development research program at the Vulcan Science Academy. After finishing the program, I would select you to research alongside me."

The fork dropped from her hand, clicking to the floor. " _What!?"_

"I would recommend you into the program and lobby for your acceptance. I am quite confident you would be allowed to at least enter the skill assessment program. You would of course need to re-locate to Academy premises."

She leaned forward. "Let me get this straight,  **you want me to go live on Vulcan!?** "

"Permanently," he clarified and leaned back on the bench at her visibly shocked reaction and considered the status of his plan.

Her delivery of the question as well as her non-verbal response were unusually emotional for her. If she accepted, he would need to teach her to resist such empathetic statements.

But surely she - an already unusually logical human - would at least partially assimilate into the culture if surrounded exclusively by Vulcans, where the culture would clearly dictate acceptable behavior.

This was one of his primary reasons for desiring her entrance into the program, as those same cultural effects that would limit and define the parameters of their interactions, and thus ensure his emotional controls would no longer be affected.

While his original reason for his plans was based on continuing their friendship, further considerations had revealed another great advantage: existing within Vulcan culture would put much needed distance in their dynamic. They would not prepare meals for each other, or spend an inordinate amount of time in isolation - it would never be tolerated by their superiors.

Afterall, every interaction between the opposite sexes were regulated by Vulcan's various strict cultural codes, and he knew if those codes were observed his control would no longer be tested as it is on Earth. For no matter how much he tried to suppress or control it, on Earth he always seemed to end up with Matteson.

But such concerns would be no longer. Co-existing at the VSA would enable him to be an acceptable Vulcan  _and_ a good friend.

_But now she had to accept._

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Matteson dropped her head and gripped her temples, any annoyance over his dig to logistics' importance suddenly disappearing.  _What was he saying?!_

She had  **just** decided to kill her romantic obsession with him. Now he wanted to move her to Vulcan? She stifled a groan. He probably only wanted her there as a colleague.

 _But...isn't this exactly the kind of thing she had been waiting for?_  Some subtle, Vulcan-style hint of interest, something to test the waters before he dove into smashing oh-so-important tradition by involving himself with an alien?

She had always wondered what his interest would even look like. She had thought she had found it once before, but  _that_ plan had backfired spectacularly, culminating with him ending any physical proximity, nevertheless physical  _contact_.

_Why did he keep doing this to her?_

She lifted her head up slightly, and found him staring at her expectantly, probably thinking she was meditating or something.

He shifted slightly. "Do you have any questions?"

 _Yes, does this mean you're interested!?_ She closed her eyes. The last time she attempted such a probe - and in a much subtler way - he had freaked out. And not in a discrete Vulcan-freak-out way: he had stormed out of the room, ignored her for a day, and then refused to discuss it.

She sighed. She had never been this emotional before, and certainly never over a guy. Of all the irony a Vulcan would illicit such a response. "Aren't you going off to setup an auxiliary manufacturing drive for the compound in a few years?"

He nodded and she continued. "Well, if you're not going to spend most of your time on Vulcan, why would I want to when you're not even going to be there?"

He tilted his head towards the ground. "As I would petition to involve you in the development of the expanded network of the compound, as well as any future projects I undertake, I would expect you to travel with me."

He paused and a brief glimpse of something passed over his face. "After a period of adjustment to Vulcan culture and it's  _inherent structure_ s  _and fail safes_ , that is."

She frowned, wondering what the  _inherent structures_  he wanted her to adjust to were. "I'm not a Vulcan."

"I am aware."

She rolled her eyes. "But you would expect me to act like one? What do you mean adjustment to Vulcan culture if we wouldn't even be living there?"

 _Or did he mean adjustment to Vulcan relationships standards?_ What did marriage even look like between members of his species?

"Of course you are not a Vulcan. However," he paused and she leaned slightly closer, "I believe it would be beneficial to both of our psychological states to have our relationship clearly defined with respect to Vulcan culture."

He seemed satisfied with himself in his explanation, and she shook her head lightly, like a dog ringing water from its ears. "So we would normalize our  _relationship_  on Vulcan, and then I would just follow you around the galaxy?"

She rubbed her temples. He still hadn't  **explicitly** stated he wanted anything romantic,  _but what else could he possibly be hinting at?!_

She opened her mouth to ask, but then clamped it shut. She knew she needed to clarify these questions. If they were going to have a deeper relationship they needed to be  **a lot** more open with each other. The current mind-reading guessing-game wasn't going to scale into a relationship.

But her eyes softened as she looked his face over. He looked as if he was truly anticipating her response, his eyes and body vividly alert under his Vulcan calm.

But months of studying his smallest reactions - and weeks of living together - had taught her to notice his subtle cues, of which was currently displaying an unmistakable nervousness he was trying to hide.

_Was he nervous she would reject him?_

She smiled. Sivok was adorable in his own unique way. And she couldn't help but be nearly giddy at his seeming implication of interest, no matter how undefined that interest was.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You're asking me to quit my job, go back to school, and move to a planet with the ecosystem of an oven. I'm going to have to think about it." He relaxed slightly and nodded, looking back to his food silently.

Feeling bold for the first time in weeks, she slowly extended her hand and placed it on his arm, and he looked down at it in surprise. "And thank you, Sivok. I know this is a big deal to you."

He nodded and looked away as she pulled her hand back, and she closed her eyes, trying to stop a wide grin from overtaking her face.

No matter her well-founded doubts, she couldn't help but feel that this was the hint she had been waiting for so long she'd given up on ever seeing, the sign he was thinking about her as more than a friend and coworker, even if he couldn't yet articulate what those scandalous  _feelings_ were.

He looked relieved by her lack of rejection, but continued to focus on his food. She watched his lips wrap around the fork and just as she had in the morning, imagined pressing hers to his.

But this time, she had a feeling of hope it might happen soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. It's been awhile, and I really do apologize. I won't try to make excuses, but I'll summarize it with three things:
> 
> 1\. Various personal factors have kept me away from creative projects however
> 
> 2\. I've been extremely blessed the last few months and other personal factors (including work) have improved beyond my wildest dreams but
> 
> 3\. I wrote a massive section to this story before things got crazy that I was sadly forced to trash, as it didn't fit with Matteson's patterns of behavior
> 
> Writing this was very difficult, and recovering from trashing 15k+ words was VERY VERY difficult. I've moved twice in this time - once 30+ hours from home - and I haven't been able to find all of my notes, which has also been demoralizing. And then most of all, after it had been awhile, I wasn't sure what to write in this note - I originally typed up my full excuse and groveling, but eventually trashed that as well.
> 
> So - I'm currently basically on bed rest (for an injury - I'm not pregnant!) so I'm taking this opportunity to write as much as I can. This chapter probably needed more work, but I can't continue to spin on this section (having re-written it many, many times) so...forgive me, for everything.
> 
> Big thanks (and apologies) to the 103 (!!) kudos and jddmna16, LaniaMaior, punkcatknitter, Drusilla Maxima, Lizzy50, Flappy, krisarna, anon, and Jansma for reviewing. You have no idea how much such things encourage me. 
> 
> OKAY - angst-y chapter + angst-y author's note complete! We have big things coming up! Nothing has really changed as you can probably tell, but the next chapter includes a huge shift. Sivok is about to make a discovery about his "feelings" that no amount of meditation will ever repair. I'm going to try to finish that chapter tonight, but it will take a few days to get posted.
> 
> Also, if you haven't read it yet, TomFoolery is making gold out of the pile of straw that is Vulcan's destruction in AOS in their brilliant No Winter Lasts Forever. I highly recommend it, go check it out.
> 
> I hope you're willing forgive my absence. I've barely gotten to read anything in my time away, so if you've written a Vulcan-fic that isn't about Spock or Sarek or read a good one please let me know. Bonus points for ENT or DS9 Vulcans!


	18. Chapter 18

_One Week Later_

Sivok straightened himself and resisted the urge to fidget with his lunch. A group of human women began laughing loudly, and he had to force his hand to unclench.

He sighed lightly and privately admitted his meditations hadn't been particularly successful for the week prior, mostly due to Matteson's total silence on his offer to enroll in the Vulcan Science Academy's offworld outreach program, and eventually research alongside him.

She had seemed receptive to his proposal when he first made it, and while she said she needed time to consider it, Sivok had been confident enough about her inevitable agreement that he had preemptively secured her acceptance to his legendary alma mater.

_Surely she would accept. She was a logical human, and logic clearly dictated she utilize her natural skillsets and accept such a rare opportunity to advance her career._

Sivok closed his eyes, momentarily thinking back to the Sarvok incident months before. It had been embarrassing and painful — both for him personally and the VSA.

Ultimately, his old mentor had been sent to reconditioning that he would likely never emerge from, and the head of the Academy had apologized both to him and Matteson. But considering T'Lar herself had assigned the unstable Vulcan, she also had lost some honor in the process — something Sivok had seized on earlier in the week to guarantee Matteson's acceptance and continued success within the institution T'Lar controlled.

And besides, Matteson  _was_ qualified, and his recommendation was genuine. She had improved the POD Vulcan researchers had been working on for years without any significant change, and she had done it in months. Of course, it was not her own research entirely, but she used parts and theories the VSA could have accessed, but chose not to.

He had ensured she could begin the placement testing and training process within weeks over subspace, and therefore would be fully prepared for when his agreement with Starfleet expired. Then they could finally leave Earth and begin a much better life on Vulcan.

_As friends and colleagues, of course._

Of course, he couldn't  _tell_ Matteson any of that, and now he was unsure how to proceed with her lack of commentary on the matter. He stomped down the familiar panic at the thought her rejection, and assured himself his distress emanated from his seemingly premature decision to inform T'Lar and not an emotional weakness of his own.

Every day for the past week, he had carefully analyzed her behavior in mediation, trying to find any clue as to her inclinations on his offer. Nothing had changed in their dynamic  _per se_ , but there had been very slight shifts in her behavior towards  _him_. She seemed contemplative and was watching him closely.

As a result, he had resolved to be on his best behavior to logically maximize his chances of success. He had painstakingly mapped out each portion of her routine, and attempted to optimize his own behavior as well as the ecosystem around her.

For instance, she always used an excessive amount of ice in her beverages. He logically concluded the water feed was too warm — or such a quantity of cooling agents would be unnecessary — so he manually adjusted the temperature regulators in her home water system.

While it was unlikely she noticed such improvements in her life, though he frankly wouldn't be surprised if he had, Sivok was nonetheless satisfied with his subtle enhancements. When they arrived on Vulcan, he would need to do many such things for her to ease the transition.

Sivok shifted on the bench as his internal chronometer alerted him to a disturbing realization: she was now officially late to their lunch. In the many months they'd been taking their midday meal together, Matteson had only been late once — and she had arrived livid that he had gotten them ejected from the museum's opening event.

Sivok narrowed his eyes as he thought back to the incident.  _He still didn't even understand why his comments to the archaeologist had been so offensive_.

But such things didn't matter anymore. Once they moved to Vulcan, those problems would no longer exist and they could continue their friendship and accomplish important work simultaneously, within the confines of his planet's logical structure. Freshly reminded of the various crises in their early relationship, he resolved once again to ensure no problems occurred between them.

Five minutes passed without her arrival, and just as Sivok went to go and seek her out, his sensitive ears picked out her voice from the ambient noise. She sounded…  _frustrated_.

"We can talk about this later, just meet me in my lab in 20 minutes."

 _Who was she talking to?_ Sivok felt his chest constrict and he wrestled with his anger at her promise to leave their lunch early to meet with someone else. He closed his eyes, chastising himself.

Jealousy was illogical, especially for a coworker's time, but he attributed it to his poor success in meditation as of late and pushed it out of his mind.

"In 20 minutes? Why are you trying so hard to ditch me, Cecilia? You can't be that desperate to get back to your Vulcan overlord."

As soon as Sivok heard Ensign Pike's voice in reply — using her given name no less! — his emotions on the matter returned rapidly. He shot up from the bench and stepped forward, but paused as both Pike and Matteson rounded the corner of the secluded area.

Sivok blinked rapidly.  _What was he just about to do?_

"Doctor! Good to see you," Pike said, flashing a smile that was obviously fake, even to a Vulcan's eyes.

Sivok didn't reply and glanced over at Matteson, who grimaced.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" Pike widened his smile and sat down on the bench.

Sivok furrowed his eyebrows, his annoyance growing with his realization that  _Pike_ had made her late. "Leave," he ordered the human man.

"Oh come on now, Doctor. Cecilia and I have to get to work in 20 minutes, surely it wouldn't be a big deal if I ate lunch with you two today."

Sivok took a deep breath and mentally prepared to give Pike the reprimand he so greatly deserved, one he would  _never_ forget, but Matteson interrupted.

"Unfortunately," she began, throwing a glance towards Sivok, "a manual shipment is coming into my section right while I'll be gone at the Progress Conference. Only a Starfleet representative can accept these, so I've been ordered by Commander Bines to train Ensign Pike in this form of receiving, starting immediately."

"I'm looking forward to it!" Pike exclaimed, smiling at Matteson and patting the seat next to him on the bench. "Come eat your lunch, Cecilia."

Matteson raised an eyebrow and sat down  _across_ from Pike and next to Sivok in defiance, and Sivok felt a surge of pleasure at her obvious preference towards him and dropped to the communal seating as well, sitting close enough to her that their arms almost brushed.

He closed his eyes briefly, attempting to suppress his sudden jolt of emotion, and so was oblivious to the small smile Matteson gave at his voluntary proximity.

"Well," Pike began awkwardly, "that's okay, I have a much better view of you from this angle."

Sivok felt his fist clench as Pike continued. "I know we  _just_ reviewed this, but let's go over the itinerary again."

Matteson sighed and began to recite the list of tasks Pike would need to complete in her absence, but instead of listening like a proper student, the Starfleet ensign added his comments to everything she said.

Sivok sat and focused his thoughts, trying to drown out the obnoxious young human's worthless interjections into Matteson's description.

_Surely this new task of training would make her all the more eager to leave Starfleet._

Sivok glanced over at Matteson and tried to suppress the deep satisfaction at the fact that she seemed annoyed with the ensign. Torn between his desire to get away from the childish ensign and the seemingly imperative task of supervising Pike around Matteson, Sivok finished his meal quickly and closed his eyes through the rest of the painful 12.2 minutes of their meal.

"Sivok?" He resisted the urge to jolt at Matteson's touch on his shoulder, not wanting to give Pike anything to feed of off. "Are you alright?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes." Sivok narrowed his eyes at Pike, who was looking between them intently.

She offered a faint smile but didn't release her hand from his shoulder. "I have to work with Ensign Pike pretty late; we've only got a week to finish the training and I have loads of other things to get done before then. Can you find something in the stasis unit for dinner tonight?"

Sivok felt a surge of an unidentifiable, intense emotion, some sort of dark joy, spread through him at her show in front Pike. Sivok obviously knew how to cook for himself, and Matteson was well aware he would probably not go home if she didn't.

 _Home_.

The word broke Sivok from his train of thought, and he frantically repressed the strange emotion that tried to overtake him once again, hoping his internal battle wasn't apparent to the outside.  _It wasn't_ _ **his**_ _home, he was staying at Matteson's apartment._ He steadied himself, but couldn't fully repress his delight in the deep scowl on Pike's face at Matteson's showcase.

"I will be fine." Sivok finally replied evenly, and Pike sighed loudly.

"Doctor," the ensign leaned forward, "shouldn't your apartment be done by now? Or have the interior designers from Vulcan not yet arrived? Shouldn't you just paint all the walls black  _to match your soul?_ "

Sivok gave him his signature death glare. "Unfortunately the repairs have been delayed due to previous undetected foundation damage."

"Riiiiiight." Pike scratched the back of his head and stood. "Ready, Cecelia?"

Sivok opened his mouth to retort, but Matteson gripped on his arm tighter and he shut it again. "Yeah, let's get this done quickly. I've got other work to do, ensign."

She finally released his arm, picked up her dish, and began to leave with the young human, but not before quickly turning around and smiling broadly at Sivok. The two disappeared and Sivok dropped his eyes to the ground, wondering not for the first time since arriving on this planet what had happened to his control.

He closed his eyes, but strawberry blonde hair filled his mind's eye in response, so he snapped them back open and stood to return to work, promising himself to return to  _her_ apartment early and correct his equilibrium in extensive meditation.

But Sivok had one comfort — if all went according to plan, in less than a year they would be on Vulcan and all such problems would be resolved.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

It was nearly 0100 hours when Matteson stepped through her apartment door, but the lights failed to trigger on her entrance, and she could tell the manual blinds were shut tight. However, after weeks of living with Sivok, she was used to the darkness.

"Comput-" she began, but the lights turned up on their own, revealing Sivok staring at her with his hand on the control panel.

"My apologies, I decreased the lighting manually in order to meditate."

Matteson smiled softly and nodded, looking over his unusual attire. It was the same type of robe he was wearing when the earthquake hit and she could only assume he slept in it. As he normally did whenever she saw him dressed in his robes, he began to walk towards his room, but turned quickly when she yawned and stretched.

The lights were still low, but his features showed subtle but clear signs of annoyance as he moved back towards her, crossing the room and stopping only a few inches away. "It is highly unprofessional for the ensign to have kept you until this hour."

She chuckled and suppressed another yawn, knowing it would only set him off further. "It's my job Sivok, it's fine."

Sivok narrowed his eyes and stood in silence, so Matteson spoke awkwardly to fill it. "Besides, I distinctly recall  **you** showing up in the middle of the night and expecting me to be there waiting for you."

Sivok looked down quickly and started to walk away, but Matteson put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm just kidding Sivok, I'm sorry."

He looked up at her slowly, and even in the low light she could see the guilt in his eyes.  _Of course he would feel guilty about keeping her awake, even after all this time._

He slowly rotated his head to look at her resting hand, but made no movement to step away. She closed her eyes as she remembered that fateful midnight meeting in the warehouse. How long it been? A year? Of course Sivok would know, but Matteson wasn't about to bring it up again.

She ran her thumb over the thin fabric and could clearly feel his body heat through the robe, noticing once again their difference in temperature. She looked up into Sivok's eyes, which were soft and contemplative. The cold and cruel stare from their early days was long gone, and it made her head spin to think of how far they'd come.

She looked at her hand and realized they were in the  _exact_ same position as when she grabbed his shoulder when they first met, even down to the time of the night. Except now instead of barking at her to go away, he was standing in her apartment  _in his pajamas_ , and wanted her to come live on his home planet, to travel with him and spend every day with him.

 _Permanently_.

Matteson sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for teasing him. She had been watching him closely all week, pursuing the fool's mission of determining a Vulcan's feelings from afar.

What were his true motivations for his offer? Had he really changed his mind about humanity? It was clear she had some sort of  _affect_ on him; he had gone so far as to say it many times.

But what was the nature of that effect? What were his feelings, how deeply did they run, and how dedicated to them was he? She needed to know the answers in order to make such a major decision, but also knew she couldn't ask them directly.

Not just because Sivok would freak out at such questions, but also because the larger problem was that  **no** Vulcan would respond well to those lines of thought: it simply wasn't allowed by their culture and she couldn't think of a way to phrase it that was. Intellectually, she needed to be tolerant and respectful of that culture and not press him.

But…  _how far did cultural tolerance go?_

She had put up with his racism months ago, being as lenient on the principle of the Prime Directive as she possibly could. At some points it been nearly too much to bear, but ultimately they had worked things out.

 _And now here they were._ He wanted her to be his shadow, but wouldn't really say why. And she had no way of finding out without throwing off his Vulcan mental alarms, plus seemingly Sivok-specific nervousness on overly emotional conversation.

She looked back at her hand, still gripped on his shoulder. He hadn't said a word as she continued to hold him there, and if she didn't know better, he seemed to be giving her puppy dog eyes for the last few minutes.

She sighed and dropped her hand, but couldn't find the will to laugh at the irony of her problems.  _An ambiguous flirtationship with a Vulcan, who she also happened to live with? Who had ever heard of such a thing? And how did she ever end up in such a spot?_

But on top of all her personal dilemmas, his offer had resurfaced career considerations Matteson had thought she had long let go of. She closed her eyes and groaned inwardly.

The foundation of much of her career in Starfleet was based on the Prime Directive, of cultural tolerance. This was the cornerstone of Starfleet, but very few seemed to understand it or have any real commitment for putting it into action. She probably would have been one of them, and would have given up on Sivok within hours of meeting him, just like everyone else had.

She certainly wouldn't have put up with his terrible attitude for as long as she did, and  _certainly_ wouldn't be seriously entertaining the premise of immigrating to a 3G hellhole without even knowing why he wanted her there. But she had an unusual relationship with the Prime Directive, and a substantial commitment to cultural tolerance that went far beyond the bounds of normal Starfleet officers.

Her father had been a specialist in converting legacy energy production systems into modern, cleaner versions. While it was technically an R&D implementation position — just as she and Sivok had done with the compound on the adaptable manufacturing system — it was also politically complex work.

There were often deeply vested interests in the old ways of doing things, and by the time the Federation was called into repair systems, things had typically been out of control for quite some time. They would dispatch her father, he would do his best to be as little of a problem as possible while on a foreign planet and working within their team… and then they would resist everything he did and try to blame him for every problem they caused, often intentionally!

As a child she had loved nothing more than to read his long and detailed letters telling her of his adventures in space, and it had driven her desire to join Starfleet and also join the internal R&D teams. But then years ago, the unthinkable happened.

Her father had been sent to a very old but distant colony of mixed Federation species that was nearing total resource depletion. Their intervention had been requested by the ruling political party to attempt to install the replication and energy production systems required to avoid a partial or full evacuation of the planet, and her father had been sent to lead the efforts.

Matteson clearly remembered reading his letters describing the tense political situation, how the opposing party's backers owned all the mineral rights and desperately wanted him and the other Federation officers gone, saying they could fix it themselves.

His last letter said he intended to meet with the chairman of the opposing party at their leader's home. His closing comments was a warning to Matteson on the importance of cultural tolerance, and how despite being technically Federation, the people on the planet seemingly had none.

Two months passed without hearing from him again, and finally Internal Affairs showed up at the doorstep of their family home. Her father had gone missing the night of the dinner, and they found his body a week later. The political leader he had visited insisted he'd never arrived, and with no evidence, no charges were ever made. Eventually, the planet was abandoned, meaning he died for nothing.

In the aftermath, Matteson had re-read his final letters on the project over and over, and they'd contained many standard elements for his work: him struggling to understand and fully adapt to a foreign culture on a moment's notice, and the total lack of flexibility on the part of the natives.

He was a  _foreigner_ , and they had no reason to give him the slightest bit of tolerance, even though they were supposedly loyal to a Federation constitution that required it. To such an extent they had killed him for it.

Despite that, she had continued with her plans to join Starfleet, preparing for entrance into planetside R&D. But after being admitted into the Academy, she decided to change the focus of her studies: to philosophy.

While the sciences had always been her primary skill, Matteson had realized she had a new passion: to be part of perpetuating the cultural tolerance that could have saved her father's life. Her goal was to teach ethics within the Academy.

But those plans were ruined when she made a disturbing discovery within the ranks of Starfleet: internally, the Prime Directive was often treated as an afterthought. Sure, it counted when working with  _outside_ species, but tolerating  _each other_ was a minor-at-best priority.

The leading members of the Federation allowed petty disputes and minor cultural differences to impede overall progress, and they all seemed to be caught up in private tit-for-tat wars.

Each culture considered their own the best, and everyone else was  _okay_ but not ideal. This applied to virtually every cultural pair, but as Matteson had learned all too intently in the last year, there was no better example than the dynamic between Vulcans and humans.

Despite their historical closeness, they still didn't trust each other and saw absolutely no reason to apply any of the tolerance they  **both** preached so widely to their "closest ally." Each side lumped the entire other species into the most general of categories: Vulcans thought humans were childish and violent, and humans thought Vulcans were robotic, heartless jerks.

Everyone kept enough of a distance to not actually learn anything about the other, and both wore their racism on their sleeves so neither could point it out without triggering a "but you did it first" reaction.

_If only humans were more logical and controlled. If only Vulcans would loosen up a little and stop being so secretive and paranoid._

Or in other words, if only "they" would be more like "us." Didn't  _anyone_  else see what insanity that was? How that flew in the face of everything they supposedly believed in?

After fighting with her philosophy professors for two years in the Academy over the spotty implementation of the Prime Directive internally, Matteson had thrown in the towel and transferred into the planetside operations track. Without a scientific major for over half of her education, she had far too little credits to go back into R&D, and she was quite certain she didn't want to actually have to talk to anyone within whatever department she ended up in.

_They were no better than the colonists who killed her father, after all._

So she had taken her solitary logistics posting, which she really  _did_ enjoy, and had stayed put since. She had been promoted to Lieutenant in that time, and had been given maximum control for her level of training in the field.

But in order to be promoted to Commander and go further, she would need to serve on a Starship, something she was hardly thrilled to do within the current Starfleet ecosystem of women's fieldwork. Or...in theory, she could continue her education, which would open her eligibility, along with other requirements. Technically it should be done through Starfleet Academy, but the VSA was at the top of the list of approved external institutions.

_The_ _**very** _ _top of the list, and being a human would be bonus points times 1000._

The fact that accepting his offer would progress her career forward, even if their relationship didn't work out for whatever reason, was a comforting fact. Though all of this assumed she was accepted into the program anyhow, something she didn't share Sivok's utmost confidence in.

But...she  _was_ happy with her current position, and she could always stay right where she was at, ace the additional Academy training, and accomplish the identical outcome.

The only  **real** reason to move to Vulcan was because of Sivok, and their relationship hadn't even progressed enough that she could before comfortable even asking him the simple question of  _why_.

But did  _why_ really matter? Perhaps the better question was  _why not?_

Sure it would be hot, but the weather wasn't  **that** big of a deal, and the weight of the credentials she would gain surely outweighed that. And it wasn't as though she'd be working outside.

_What if her reluctance to live on Vulcan was motivated by the same cultural intolerance she supposedly despised?_

Because, at the end of the day, her hesitation primarily stemmed from her skepticism of the people themselves. But in thinking so, was she acting just as racist as she had accused Sivok of?

And afterall, hadn't she perpetuated the same issues when he had threatened to end their relationship months ago if he didn't clean up his act? And, in expecting him to articulate his emotions before he understood them himself, was she applying her own cultural standards to him?

But didn't she have the right in such a personal matter to expect him to extend the same tolerance to her, to at least make his intentions clear?

Matteson closed her eyes, considering the dilemma, and an old quote surfaced in her mind.

" _Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them. We should therefore claim, in the name of tolerance, the right not to tolerate the intolerant."_

But from two years of studying of such things, Matteson knew there was no clear answer to any of these questions. Humanity had struggled with them long before First Contact, and the Federation struggled with them today.

"There is a portion of dinner in the stasis unit. You should eat." His sudden comment pulled her out of her thoughts, and Matteson smiled at him.

"Thank you Sivok. We worked through dinner, so I'm hungry."

"I will prepare it for you," he began, but his face shifted slightly, and Matteson recognized it as regret.

"I can get it, Sivok."

"It is...fine. You need to sleep as soon as possible, it is logical to assist you."

She smiled and nodded as he walked towards the kitchen, and she pulled her outer uniform jacket off and stepped over to the couch, tossing the jacket over the arm and plopping herself down to the far left. The lights were still low, and she could barely make out the long prickly arms of a member of her carnivorous plant collection.

She felt her eyelids get heavier as exhaustion tugged at the edges of her mind, pulling her closer to sleep.

"Perhaps you should sleep now, and eat in the morning. I will adjust your alarms to compensate for your lost rest."

Her eyes shot open at Sivok's sudden presence, and she sat up to find him sitting on the other side of the couch holding a plate with some sort of vegetable wrap.

_Always worried about her sleep._

"Thank you, but I'm hungry. I didn't eat much for breakfast."

"Something I reminded you of," he raised an eyebrow and began, "however you were adamant on arriving at the logistics center early."

She snorted and picked up her wrap, ignoring the silverware he had placed on the plate. "Yeah and good thing. I'm completely swamped, and now I have this training to do all week."

A brief flash of annoyance passed over his face, but then he tilted his head. "Is training normally part of your duties? You have not done this since I arrived."

"It's not supposed to be, but I've ended up doing it on a variety of occasions," Matteson frowned. "Commander Bines said something about wanting me to train more new recruits soon. I'll admit it's annoying."

He stayed silent, his brown eyes suddenly becoming more intense. She watched him look over her rapidly and then unconsciously tug at his robes, pulling them further around his body. He looked uncomfortable sitting with her, but also seemed oddly at peace. All of which was hardly unusual, it had been their standard arrangement the entire time he had stayed with her: getting physically further but mentally closer.

And yet...here they were, in the middle of the night, sitting less than a foot apart, talking and eating a meal he had made for her.  _They really did have a comfortable routine, even before he moved in_.

For days after their movie night, the distinct aroma of Vulcan incense had clung to her sheets, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't imagine any motivation for his offer besides romantic interest, no matter how deeply buried that interest may be.

_They already lived as if they were a couple. Sort of._

Though he was constantly calling them "strictly" colleagues and friends and clamming up at the mention of anything more, his actions  _screamed_ louder than his words. She set down her wrap and sighed and he glanced at her curiously. It was time, and she was tired enough to simply give in.

"Sivok, why do you want me to come to Vulcan?"

He seemed almost startled at the question, but then quickly relaxed, seemingly relieved. "I wish to see you accomplish your full potential as an engineer, and I believe the Vulcan Science Academy is one of the best institutions in the quadrant to do so."

She folded her arms and shifted. She had once also believed she would be suited to working in R&D full-time, a fact her recent introspective state had brought back to the forefront of her mind. But she  **was** happy in her current career. She had her hobbies, she did her work, and while she was alone doing it all, that was fine. She had been alone for most of her life.

_But could she go back to that? Now that she had a taste of a relationship, a rekindling no matter how small of her original passions... could she really return to running marathons and breeding plants and working in the warehouse and being content with it all?_

She dropped her head and glanced at the carnivorous plants on the table, still saying nothing. Sivok started again. "Additionally, we will continue to work intensively together, perhaps more so. I am...optimistic at what our joint efforts could accomplish professionally."

Her exhaustion from the day and the stress of the week of indecision was weighing on her, and she instinctively pulled her knees to her chest on the couch, resting her chin on top. She turned her head towards him slowly and they held each other's stare for a long moment.

_He looked...worried._

"Just professionally?"

He shifted backwards quickly, his posture tensing. "Meaning?"

"You said we would accomplish things together professionally. Is that it?"

When he didn't answer, she pulled her legs in tighter and braced herself.

_Here goes nothing._

"What will our relationship be like going forward?" She closed her eyes and heard him breathe in quickly.

"As you are aware," he began, "I hold you in the utmost esteem. I fully anticipate strengthening our personal relationship."

She breathed in slowly. "Strengthening?"

"Yes, within the structures of Vulcan culture."

"Please explain that Sivok, you've said it before but  _I have no idea what that means._ "

He paused and she cracked an eye open to look at him. He had folded his hands in a complex manner and was now staring at them intently.

"It is difficult to explain fully; I would prefer to do so when you are rested. However, I will summarize it by saying every step of a Vulcan's life has been optimized through our traditions. Relationships between adults are no different."

She hummed. "Relationships between adults…"

He shifted, and despite his meditation time being freshly finished, his discomfort and nerves were palatable.

_But this needed to be done._

"There are...rules for interactions, and processes to be followed in developing relationships. These are all founded in Vulcan philosophy, and they will enable us to fully develop our dynamic in a way that does not put you in danger."

She snorted. "How could I be in danger?"

He dropped his head. "As you are aware, my emotional controls have not always been perfectly executed in regards to you. This puts you at great risk, and Vulcan cultural codes are designed precisely to minimize that risk."

She sighed deeply.  _He still hadn't given a clear answer._

"I get that Sivok, and I really want to be tolerant of our differences. I think that together we can do a lot, but I'm just trying to understand..." she trailed off and studied his face, and he tilted his head slowly.

"Differences?"

She laughed at his bizarre question, " _Yeah_ , you being a Vulcan and I…" she dropped her head, "nevermind."

Matteson stared at him, confused by his sudden behavior.  _Maybe she had broken him with her emotional questions._

He looked up suddenly and paused for a split second, and then stood. "Perhaps there is another way to explain. Remain here."

She turned her head to watch him as he trailed down the hallway, re-tightening his robes as he went. A few moments later, he emerged with a small box, and she assumed it was something he had fetched from his apartment once he was cleared to retrieve his belongings.

He sat back down and opened the box, revealing an antique-looking pendant, which he pulled out and placed in his hand.

"Are you aware of the IDIC?"

She sat up and looked at the icon with her full attention. "No, what is it?"

"It is the most sacred Vulcan symbol. The triangle and the circle are two different shapes, materials, and textures. They represent any two diverse things which come together to create truth or beauty, symbolized by the jewel in the center."

Matteson furrowed her eyebrows. "Okay, go on."

"IDIC stands for Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. This is the foundation of Vulcan philosophy — that disparate elements can be combined to create a new, greater reality. This is the ultimate flexibility and benefit of logic, the ability to create anything through unlimited mathematical combination."

She paused. "That's a beautiful philosophy. It's one of optimism, and... _tolerance_. I mean, how can you combine infinite ideas in infinite ways if you never bother to consider those ideas in the first place?"

He nodded slowly and traced his finger around the two shapes, ultimately arriving at the jewel. Matteson watched him and considered her earlier thoughts on tolerance, and marveled afresh at how poorly their species collectively applied the values they claimed to hold at their core.

"Sivok, how do you view this as relating to us?"

He was silent for a long moment. "While our dynamic will benefit from normalizing under the confines of Vulcan structure, our relationship is also unique. Our individualities combine as two disparate variables into a greater conclusion, with infinite possibilities in result."

The world around her seemed to slow, and she watched him track the shapes with his finger, arriving again at the jewel. Then, he leaned forward and slowly raised the large chain over her head, and allowed gravity to swing the pendant down to her chest, always careful not to touch her skin.

He shifted and stared forward, not looking at her. "Merry Christmas."

She startled. " _What?!_ "

He looked back towards her and raised an eyebrow. "You told me that was the traditional gift giving phrase."

The tenseness of the moment was broken and she burst out laughing, thinking back to giving him the canister of tea. "Yeah, but…you're right. It is."

She picked up the pendant and traced her finger in the same way he had done.

"It's called an  _IDIC_?"

He nodded.

She looked over it closely. It seemed  _ancient_ and she assumed it was a family heirloom of some sort, considering he brought it all the way to Earth. "And you really want to give it me?  _Are you sure?_ "

He answered without hesitation. "Yes. I believe it is customary on Earth to give jewelry to mark various occasions and milestones."

She blushed. "Yeah, but those occasions…" she trailed off and looked up into his eyes, and then dropped her head. "I'm honored. Thank you, Sivok."

He spoke up. "I have remained silent on the matter, but have you further considered my offer?"

"Yes."

He perked up. "Yes, you have decided to accept? Then the matter is settled?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes,  _I've considered it._ " She sighed, looking down again at the IDIC and tracing her fingers around it once more.  _Why not put these ideas to work?_

"But yes. I'll come to Vulcan with you, assuming the VSA accepts me."

He sat silently and then nodded, his posture and face relaxing, the tighter Vulcan calm returning instantly.

"I have utmost confidence in you. But for tonight, you must sleep. I will adjust your alarm through your primary PADD. I apologize for keeping you awake, and I will clean the plate."

She resisted rolling her eyes at his sudden change in mood and stood, while he remained perched on the couch. Feeling playful for the first time in weeks, she leaned forward and ran her fingers through his hair, still not touching his skin.

He didn't react negatively, but he also didn't react positively. She sighed.

_Be patient - one step at a time._

"Thanks for dinner, and goodnight Sivok. I'll submit the paperwork to the VSA in the morning."

He nodded and she slowly walked back to her room. It now being nearly 0200. She took off her uniform pants, unhooked her bra, and climbed directly into bed, but left the IDIC on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculously Long Author's Note:
> 
> Well, not much as has changed between our (non)lovers, except Matteson's moving to Vulcan! However, in the next chapter everything will be resolved, including the big reveal we've all been waiting for! It's 25+ pages long and already written, just making finishing touches. Also, the last time I posted two chapters, a lot of people didn't get the double alerts and were very confused after accidentally skipping a chapter, so chapter 20 is coming soon.
> 
> I apologize for the slow update, my work - and basically everyone I know - got hit by a hurricane. We're all alive, and everything was restored to pre-hurricane functionality TODAY. That's how long it took to recover. But all is well now. I know I have readers in southern Texas and in Florida, I hope you're all dry by now too.
> 
> HUGE thank you to Kslivlib, LaniaMaior, Jansma, ibran, punkcatknitter, ruggerdavey, and kirgy. 
> 
> You all have my eternal gratitude for your comments and patience, and my apologizes for my slowness in posting and replying to reviews. You influence every chapter far more than the outline does - all of your comments are so encouraging, constructive, and have more insight into the characters than I do, and I appreciate you all very much! Thank you again for your reviews!
> 
> Special thanks to RemusJ for chatting with me on Vulcan culture in canon, and an immeasurable thanks to TomFoolery who masterfully edits my butchery of the English language and deals with my extreme nerves over my crazy character's behavior. No Winter Lasts Forever is everything a Vulcan AOS romance should be, and more, so go read it and review if you haven't already.
> 
> Canon notes:
> 
> On the Prime Directive and the Federation: perhaps I've watched too much Enterprise and it's tainted my view - but to me, the Federation has never been the utopia it's supposed to be. Wars, being invaded by spies, internal conflict, problematic admiralty - these are common themes, even in TNG, and certainly DS9. Obviously it's better than our world today, but I've never bought into the narrative that it would seem that way to the people who live in it. So Matteson's discontent with Starfleet - especially the mini-skirt boys club that was TOS - doesn't seem that far fetched to me.
> 
> Also, I can tell you for a fact that IRL Ivy League institutions allow the rules of admissions to be fudged a good deal. And this isn't the real VSA, I think of it like a MOOC program for smelly illogical aliens.


End file.
